GEORGE  H.   JESSOP 


Judge  Lynch 


A  Romance 

of  the 
California 

Vineyards 


CHICAGO,  NEW  YORK  AND  SAN  FRANCISCO 
BELFORD,  CLARKE  &  CO. 


Household  Library,  N.  Y.    No.  44.  Vol.  4.    July  8,  1889.    Annual  Subscription  $30.00.    Issued  semi-weekly. 
Entered  at  the  Post  Office  at  Chicago  as  second  class  matter. 


Belford,  Clarke  &  Co.'s  New  Books. 


A  Drummer's  Diary.  By  CHARLES  S.  PLUMMER.  12mo,  cloth, 
gilt  top,  $1.00;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

What  Dreams  May  Come.  By  Mrs.  GERTRUDE  ATHERTON. 
12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"The  interest  of  the  story  lies  in  its  all-absorbing-  plot,  its  strong:  dra- 
matic treatment,  and  the  bold  handling  of  one  of  the  most  difficult  and 
least  used  subjects  of  literature.'' — Rochester  Herald. 

"There  is  good  work  and  strong  work  in  the  book,  and  it  is  quite  enough 
to  make  one  hope  it  is  not  the  last  the  authoiess  will  write."— N  Y. 
Journalist. 

Bella-Demoir'a.  By  SELINA  DOLARO  lUndame  Dolaro's  Posthu- 
mous Novel.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

This  work,  founded  on  a  drama  by  Madame Polaro.  shortly  to  be  pro- 
duced, is  an  historical  novel  of  pure  incident.  It  is  composed  of  a  serins  of 
startling:  dramatic  situations,  founded  on  facts  not  hitherto  published  in 
connection  with  the  Ru  so  Turkish  War  of  1877-8,  of  which  it  is  an  accurate 
history  of  absorbitig  interest. 

Mes  Amours  :  Poems  Passionate  ard  Playful.  By  SELINA 
DOLARO.  1  vol.,  small  4to,  illustrated,  $1.25. 

"  Some  of  them  are  from  her  own  pen ;  she  is  the  inspiration  of  the  others. 
A  few  of  the  latter  are  reallv  quite  clever  verses,  but  not  nearly  as  bright  as 
her  annotation  of  them  all." — N.  Y.  Graphic. 

"There  is  many  a  laugh  to  be  had  from  reading  the  book." — Town  Topics. 

"These  verses  are  full  of  spirit  aid  life,  and  the  merry  mood  sines 
between  the  lines  like  the  contented  stieamlet  between  wind-swept  hill- 
sides."- Albany  Journal. 

That  Girl  from  Texas.  Bv  JEANETTE  H.  WALWORTH.  12mo, 
cloth,  $1  00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"Is  one  of  the  nicest  girls  ever  introduced  to  readers.  Well  told,  and 
decidedly  interesting." — Neio  London  Telegraph. 

A  Splendid  Egotist.  By  JEANNETTE  H.  WALWORTH  (jmtlior  of 
"That  Girl  from  Texas").  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00;  paper 
cover,  50  cents. 

A  brilliant  society  novel  by  this  gifted  author,  and  one  of  the  best  she 
has  written. 

History  of  New  York.  By  JEANNETTE  H.  WALWORTH.  In  words 
of  one  syllable.  Richly  illustrated.  Illuminated  board  cover, 
$1.00;  cloth,  $1.50. 

"This  book  is  well  calculated  to  give  young  children  just  about  the 
histo'iVal  knowledge  in  that  direction  which  their  minds  are  piepared  to 
absorb  and  retain  " — Osivego  Palladium. 

His  Wav  and  Her  Will.  By  FANNIE  AYMAR  MATHEWS.  12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  Is  a,  novel  of  more  than  usual  merit.  Its  characters  are  strong  in  word 
lind  notion,  and  although  it  is  a  love  story,  its  sentiment  is  manly,  and  not 
mawkish."— JV.  H.  News. 

"The  characters  are  drawn  with  n  firm  and  free  hand,  and  irtfe  story  has 
that  symmetry  of  construction  which  shows  the  practical  workman.  The 
literary  style  is  finished  and  graceful." — Baltimore  N<'ws. 

CHICAGO,    NEW    YORK,    and    SAN    FBANCISCO. 


JUDGE    LYNCH 


JUDGE  LYNCH 


A   ROMANCE 


THE   CALIFORNIA  VINEYARDS 


BY       ^ 

GEORGE   Hi  JESSOP 

AUTHOR  OF 
;  UNDER  THE  REDWOOD  TREE,"  "  AN  OLD  MAN  FROM  THE  OLD  COUNTRY," 

AND  "LABOR  ABOO  SINGH." 


BELFORD,   CLARKE   &   CO. 

CHICAGO,  NEW   YORK,   AND    SAN    FRANCISCO 

PUBLISHERS 


LONDON,  HENRY  J.  DRANE,  Lovell's  Court,  Paternoster  Row 


COPYRIGHTED,    1889,    BY 

GEORGE  H.  JESSOP. 


»«x>ft  Library 
7  2  O  £>  3 


PREFATORY   NOTE. 


I  take  pleasure  in  thanking  here  Mr.  Brander  Matthews 
for  permission  to  use  in  this  novel  the  characters  and  sit- 
uations of  a  play  written  by  us  in  collaboration. 

G.  H.  J. 


JUDGE    LYNCH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THERE  was  a  puzzled,  grieved  expression  on  the 
sheriff's  face  as  he  stepped  forward  and  laid  his  hand  on 
the  young  man's  shoulder. 

"  Jack  Scott,  you  are  my  prisoner." 

Jack  started  and  shivered  a  little.  Arrest  on  a  charge 
of  murder  is  fortunately  a  rare  experience,  and  of  a  kind 
to  shock  the  strongest  nerves.  But  arrest  at  this  time 
and  place  meant  something  worse  than  suspicion,  con- 
finement, and  the  long  suspense  of  a  trial.  The  young 
man  knew  this,  and  his  mind  grasped  in  a  moment  the 
whole  significance  of  the  situation,  with  the  lightning 
speed  of  thought  in  moments  of  peril. 

For  this  isolated  little  community  of  San  Pablo,  forty 
miles  from  railroad  or  telegraph,  cut  off  by  the  precipi- 
tous coast  range  from  the  rest  of  California — even  from 
the  rest  of  its  own  county — was  a  law  unto  itself.  The 
village  nestled  in  a  narrow  plain  ;  on  one  side  the 
broad  Pacific,  on  the  other  the  mountains  clothed  on 
their  western  slope  with  the  clustered  vines*.  A  peaceful 
settlement,  to  all  appearance,  and  yet  robbery,  violence, 

7 


8  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

murder  itself  had  stained  San  Pablo's  record.  Since 
Mr.  Byrne's  vineyard  gang— Italian  laborers  mostly- 
had  struck,  the  place  had  been  in  confusion.  Quarrels, 
assaults,  bloodshed  had  become  matters  of  nightly 
occurrence.  Sheriff  Starkweather  had  come  over  from 
San  Antonio  and  had  taken  up  his  residence  temporarily 
at  the  San  Pablo  House,  but  even  his  presence  seemed 
to  have  little  effect  on  the  lawless  element.  And  then 
the  citizens  of  San  Pablo  had  met ;  they  had  discussed 
the  situation  and  arrived  at  a  conclusion.  The  laws 
sliould  be  administered  by  a  committee  of  themselves, 
and  all  infractions  thereof  should  be  visited  with  the 
same  punishment — death  !  It  was  hard  measure  for 
petty  offenders,  and  yet  the  men  could  scarcely  be 
blamed  for  adopting  it.  Riot  and  assassination  had  dis- 
figured their  town;  the  crowd  of  swarthy  loafers  who 
hung  around  its  plaza  and  its  bar-rooms  were  little 
better  than  banditti,  living  on  plunder  and  making  small 
account  of  human  life.  In  local  phrase  San  Pablo  was 
"  a  bad  place  to  bluff."  San  Pablo  refused  to  be  bluffed. 
San  Pablo,  in  an  emergency,  could  hold  life  as  cheaply 
as  the  worst  "  dago  "  that  ever  hoed  a  vine,  and  the  next 
man  that  committed  a  crime — be  the  offender  who  he 
might — should  swing  for  it. 

All  this  Jack  Scott  knew.  He  had  been  present  at  the 
meeting  of  the  vigilance  committee  and  had  even  vent- 
ured to  preach  moderation — not  that  he  altogether 
blamed  the  exasperation  of  the  other  men,  but  he  was  a 
popular  young  fellow  and  highly  esteemed  in  the  place, 
and  he  had  felt  it  to  be  his  duty  to  use  such  influence 
as  he  possessed  in  behalf  of  law  and  order.  As  he 
expected,  his  protest  went  for  nothing.  He  found  no 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  9 

support.  Mr.  Byrne  sided  with  him  at  first,  but  soon 
withdrew  when  he  found  he  was  championing  a  hopeless 
cause.  The  Hon.  Pat  Byrne  was  too  good  a  politician 
to  vote  with  the  minority. 

And  the  committee  had  proved  itself  in  deadly  earnest. 
When  Juan  Estudillo,  having  taken  a  glass  too  much,  had 
started  in,  revolver  in  hand,  to  clean  out  the  office  of 
the  Independent,  Judge  Boone,  Tom  Smith  and  half  a 
dozen  others  had  acted  promptly.  Estudillo  was  seized 
before  he  could  fire  a  shot ;  his  explanation  of  his  diffi- 
culty with  Field,  the  editor,  was  not  even  listened  to,  and 
the  poor  Mexican  was  ridden  out  of  town  on  a  rail. 
Only  Jack  Scott's  prompt  intercession  saved  him  from 
the  additional  discomfort  of  a  coat  of  tar  and  feathers. 
Juan  was  forced  to  back  his  wooden  steed  all  the  way  to 
his  ranch — three  miles  up  the  valley,  and  he  had  been 
left  at  his  own  door  with  an  emphatic  caution  that  if  he 
dared  to  show  his  face  in  San  Pablo  for  six  months 
worse  was  in  store  for  him.  Evidently  the  vigilance 
committee  meant  business. 

Jack  reviewed  the  situation  as  Sheriff  Starkweather's 
heavy  hand  fell  on  his  shoulder — a  hand  that  had  never 
before  been  put  forth  to  him  save  in  the  friendly  spirit  of 
hearty  greeting;  His  face  paled  a  little,  but  he  only 
drew  back  a  step  and  bowed  his  head  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  official  authority.  Then,  as  he  raised  his 
eyes,  he  saw  that  the  group  around  him  was  growing 
every  moment,  and  he  caught  the  flutter  of  pretty  sum- 
mer dresses  as  two  ladies  came  on  through  the  trees  and 
paused  in  wonder  at  the  unwonted  gathering.  A  crimson 
flush  rose  to  the  young  man's  pale  cheeks  and  he  looked 
down  again.  It  was  hard  that  she  should  see  him  like  this. 


10  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Lucy  Starkweather  was  a  handsome  girl,  tall,  dark- 
haired,  dark-eyed,  with  a  certain  queenliness  about  her 
that  even  the  rough  vineyard  men  and  rancheros  recog- 
nized. Jack  had  recognized  it  long  since,  and  perhaps 
but  for  it  he  would  have  put  in  words  the  admiration  with 
which  the  dark  eyes  and  bright  face  inspired  him.  Her 
friends  in  San  Antonio  called  her  Lady  Lucy,  and  Jack 
Scott,  with  the  winning  diffidence  of  a  young  man  in 
love,  thought  that  no  one  was  worthy  of  her — himself 
least  of  all.  And  now  she  saw  him  arrested,  arrested  by 
her  own  father.  Jack  noticed  her  start  of  astonishment 
as  she  turned  and  said  something  to  her  companion.  He 
knew  her  too — this  pretty,  fair-haired  girl — Lucy  had 
introduced  him  to  her.  She  was  a  Miss  Carrie 
Van  Zandt,  an  Eastern  young  lady  who  had  been  educated 
at  the  same  school  in  New  York  as  Miss  Lucy  had 
attended;  and  he  stood,  arrested  for  a  brutal  crime, 
under  the  eyes  of  those  two  high-bred  girls.  It  was  ail 
very  hard  to  bear. 

The  Hon.  Pat  Byrne  saw  the  ladies  coming  and 
detached  himself  from  the  group  to  meet  them.  Now 
they  would  hear  it  all.  Jack  strained  his  ears  to  try'and 
catch  the  conversation,  but  the  girls  had  stopped  too  far 
off.  He  saw  Mr.  Byrne  remove  his  tall  hat — the  only 
tall  hat  in  San  Antonio  County — and  make  a  sweeping 
bow  as  he  approached  them.  Then  the  sheriff  spoke  to 
his  prisoner. 

"  You  can  sit  down,  Jack,  if  you  want,"  he  said  kindly. 
"  I  must  stay  till  they  get  back  up  the  gully  with  Dick." 

"  Sam  Starkweather,"  said  Jack,  facing  round  on  him. 
"  Do  you  believe  that  I  shot  Dick  Morley  ?  " 

"  No,"    answered  the   sheriff,    "  I  don't ;    but    that's 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  II 

neither  here  nor  there.      With  the  proof  that's  in  my 
hand  it's  my  duty  to  arrest  you,  and  I've  done  it." 

Jack  said  no  more.  He  stepped  forward  at  Mr. 
Starkweather's  side  and  peered  into  the  gully.  The 
ground  was  rocky  and  broken.  It  was  part  of  a  deep 
ravine  that  cut  into  the  coast  range  ;  and  along  it  and 
at  the  spot  where  it  opened  into  the  plain  half  a  mile 
below,  straggled  the  village  of  San  Pablo.  The  only 
level  piece  of  ground  in  the  neighborhood  was  that  on 
which  they  were  standing — a  little  plateau  of  barely  an 
acre  in  extent,  covered  thickly  with  red  dust,  as  was  the 
road  which  led  from  the  town  past  it,  through  the  ravine 
and  over  the  mountains  toward  San  Antonio.  The  month 
was  September,  but  no  rain  had  fallen  yet,  and  all  nature 
was  parched  and  dry  after  the  long  summer.  A  single 
house  was  in  sight,  built  on  the  little  plain — a  kind  of 
general  store  kept  by  the  man  whose  fate  all  San  Pablo 
was  investigating.  Just  "behind  the  house  there  was  an 
immense  rock — partly  earth  covered  and  overgrown  with 
climbing  plants,  but  bare  and  flat  above.  It  was  on  top 
of  this  that  Morley  had  last  been  seen  alive.  The  rock 
overhung  the  gully,  and  from  its  summit  there  was  a 
-sheer  drop  of  100  feet  or  more  into  the  abyss  below. 
From  the  level  spot  on  which  the  men  were  gathered, 
however,  the  descent  was  much  easier  and  the  depth  not 
so  great.  This  gorge  was  to  the  right  of  the  San  Pablo 
road,  and  continued  close  to  it  till  the  church  was  reached 
— a  primitive  wooden  structure,  which  marked  the  limits 
of  the  village  proper,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  below.  Beyond 
the  little  clearing  on  which  Morley's  house  stood  the  trees 
grew  thickly,  and  the  course  of  the  road  could  not  be 
traced  more  than  a  few  yards  in  either  direction.  The 


12  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

church  and  the  village,  which  straggled  on  beyond,  were, 
of  course,  invisible,  but  the  rapid  fall  of  the  ravine  showed 
that  it  would  soon  reach  the  level  of  the  gully,  which 
made  this  portion  of  the  track  dangerous  even  for  the 
little  wagons  of  the  place.  In  fact,  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  lower  down  the  valley  spread  out  and  showed  few 
inequalities.  But  at  the  spot  on  which  the  men  were 
looking  down,  the  gorge,  clothed  by  climbing  plants  and 
overgrown  with  brushwood,  looked  deep  and  dismal 
enough. 

The  news  reached  the  village  and  people  were  coming 
up  every  moment.  They  came  by  twos  and  threes  and 
singly — storekeepers,  laborers,  bar-room  loafers,  and 
each,  after  a  rapid  question  or  two,  pressed  forward 
and  looked  into  the  ravine.  Some  of  them  climbed  down 
the  steep  banks  and  joined  those  below.  The  latter  were 
hidden  in  the  tangle  of  underbush,  but  the  movement  of 
the  stems  and  the  rustle  of  the  parched  leaves  showed 
that  the  search  was  over  and  that  the  dead  man — he  could 
but  be  dead  after  such  a  fall — was  being  carried  up  to 
the  plateau. 

Jack  leaned  over  and  gazed  down  among  the  waving 
branches.  The  sheriff,  with  one  hand  resting  on  the 
young  man's  arm,  seemed  to  be  holding  him  back  from 
the  dangerous  brink;  but  Jack  knew  that  that  touch 
meant  the  jailor's  grasp  on  the  prisoner. 

And  the  two  girls  stood  with  Mr.  Byrne  near  the  edge 
of  the  clearing,  with  parted  lips  and  straining  eyes — 
watching. 

"  Are  they  sure,  Mr.  Byrne  ? "  asked  Carrie  Van  Zandt. 
"  Has  Colonel  Morley  certainly  been — "  she  broke  off 
as  if  her  lips  refused  to  syllable  the  awful  word,  murder. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  13 

"  It's  sorry  I  am  to  say  it,"  answered  Byrne,  "  but 
there  can't  be  no  manner  o'  doubt  o'  it.  Mrs.  Morley 
heard  the  shot  with  her  own  ears,  and  run  out  in  time  to 
see  the  poor  fellow  whirling  down  off  o'  his  rock  like  a 
broken-winged  crow." 

"  Poor  woman  !  "  murmured  Carrie. 

"  An'  Judge  Boorie  an'  Mr.  Field,  that  had  passed,  as 
it  might  be,  two  minutes  afore,  come  runnin'  back  to 
the  report — oh,  it  was  a  cruel  murder,  not  a  doubt  o' 
it." 

"  And  why  have  they  fastened  the  crime  on  Mr. 
Scott  ? " 

Lucy  had  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  speak  before 
she  brought  out  this  question,  but  it  came  from  her  lips 
now,  hard  and  clear  as  steel  and  without  a  tremor  of  the 
voice  or  a  shade  of  expression  in  the  tone.  It  was  so 
unlike  Lucy's  usual  utterance  that  Byrne  looked  from 
one  of  the  girls  to  the  other  as  if  uncertain  which  had 
spoken. 

"Well,"  he  said,  hesitatingly,  "there  was  a  many 
little  things  pointin'  toward  Jack.  He  was  on  the  spot 
where  the  shot  come  from — his  pistol  was  found  lyin' 
close  by ;  he'd  been  in  high  words  with  poor  Dick  not 
more'n  five  minutes  before — oh,  I've  no  manner  o'  doubt 
Jack  had  nothin'  to  do  wid  it.  He's  not  that  kind  o' 
man.  But  sarcumstances  bein'  as  it  were  corroborative 
evidence,  if  I  may  say  so — in  course  they  tuk  him  into 
custody  on  the  spur  o'  the  moment — not  but  what  he'll 
establish  his  innocence  aisy  enough. 

Lucy  stood  looking  at  the  ground  as  if  in  deep  thought. 
Suddenly  she  turned  and  raised  her  great  dark  eyes  to 
Mr.  Byrne's  face — "  may  I  never  ate  another  bit  if  they 


I4  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

weren't  burnin'  like  two  coals  o'  fire,"  that  gentleman 
stated  when  he  came  to  speak  of  the  scene. 

"  Mr.  Byrne,"  she  said  earnestly,  "  Mr.  Scott  has 
been  in  your  employment  ever  since  he  came  here — you 
owe  it  to  him — you  owe  it  to  yourself,  you  owe  it  to  all 
his  friends  to  stand  by  him  in  his  trouble,  and  help  him 
to  clear  his  name  of  this  odious  suspicion." 

Byrne  looked  somewhat  taken  aback.  "  Surely,  surely, 
Miss  Lucy,"  he  replied ;  "  I've  a  great  wish  for  Jack,  an' 
I'll  do  me  utmost." 

Carrie  Van  Zandt  clutched  Lucy's  arm. 

"  Oh,  see,  see,  Lucy,"  she  cried.  "They  have  found 
the  body,  and  are  bringing  it  up  here.  Oh,  do,  do, 
please  come  away." 

Lucy  hesitated  a  moment.  "I  don't  like  to  seem  to 
turn  my  back  on  my  friends  when  they  are  in  difficulty," 
she  said. 

"  Ye'd  better  go,  Miss  Lucy.  Sure  your  pa's  there,  an' 
he  wouldn't  like  to  have  you  round." 

"  I  shall  certainly  faint  if  I  see  a  dead  man,  so  choose," 
added  Carrie,  dragging  on  her  friend's  arm. 

While  Lucy  still  hesitated,  a  figure  detached  itself 
from  the  curious  group  gathered  on  the  plateau,  and 
came  swiftly  toward  them.  He  was  a  tall,  spare  man, 
shabbily  dressed  in  clothes  of  a  semi-clerical  cut,  and  he 
walked  with  rapid,  nervous  steps*  He  had  narrow, 
stooping  shoulders  and  white  hands,  and  a  very  pale  face 
— the  face  of  a  visionary — an  ascetic,  framed  in  whiskers 
of  lusterless  black,  and  lit  up  by  dark,  deeply-sunken 
eyes.  In  the  robust,  open  air,  unimaginative  life  of  San 
Pablo  such  a  man  seemed  strangely  out  of  place. 
Neither  in  dress  nor  appearance  nor  habits  of  thought 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  15 

would  he  seem  to  have  anything  in  common  with  his  sur- 
roundings. And  yet  he  was  popular  in  a  certain  way; 
respected,  too,  though  many  people  called  him  a  "crank," 
for  he  was  the  schoolmaster  and  the  most  efficient  man 
who  had  ever  held  that  office  in  San  Pablo. 

Byrne  hailed  him  as  he  approached.  "  Poor  Dick's 
dead,  of  course,  Mr.  Jeffries  ? " 

Jeffries  joined  the  little  group,  lifting  his  hat  to  the 
ladies  as  he  did  so. 

"  I  suppose  there  cannot  be  a  doubt  of  it,  Mr.  Byrne," 
he  said,  "  but  I  didn't  wait  to  see.  You  know  I  can't 
bear  the  sight  of  blood — and  death  by  violence  !  "  he 
broke  off  with  a  shudder,  and  his  face  seemed  to  take  on 
an  added  shade  of  pallor.  "  Shall  we  go  on,  ladies  ?  "  he 
resumed  after  a  moment. 

"  Ay,  do,  young  ladies,"  urged  Byrne.  "  Mr.  Jeffries 
will  see  yez  down  to  the  hotel,  an'  I'll  stay  on  the  spot, 
an'  if  there's  anything  I  can  do,  sure  I'll  spind  me  day 
doin'  it." 

This  time  Lucy  made  no  objection.  She  followed  the 
schoolmaster  and  Carrie  down  the  steep  track,  while  the 
Hon.  Pat  Byrne  joined  the  group  that  bore  to  his  home 
the  mangled  remains  of  Dick  Morley. 


CHAPTER  II. 

As  the  melancholy  procession  moved  toward  the  little 
store  many  eyes  were  fixed  on  Kate  Morley,  the  widow  of 
the  murdered  man.  She  had  been  the  first  to  rush  down 
the  ravine  when  the  ringing  report  of  the  pistol  had 
called  her  from  the  piazza  in  time  to  witness  her  hus- 
band's death.  Now  she  returned,  walking  behind  the 
men  who  carried  his  dead  body.  Her  gown  of  coarse 
blue  calico  had  been  torn  here  and  there  by  thorny 
shrubs,  her  magnificent  auburn  hair  had  become  dishev- 
elled in  her  haste  and  hung  over  her  shoulders;  the 
exertion  of  climbing  from  the  ravine  had  brought  a  bright 
color  into  her  cheeks — her  complexion  was  one  of  Mrs. 
Morley's  chief  beauties.  She  looked  handsome,  and 
though  she  was  silent  and  kept  her  eyes  bent  on  the 
ground,  she  had  not  the  aspect  of  a  mourner. 

Hank  Dollett  of  the  livery  stable,  dropped  behind  and 
made  a  remark  to  that  effect,  but  he  spoke  in  a  low  tone, 
for  the  afternoon's  tragedy  had  dashed  San  Pablo's 
usual  spirits. 

Tom  Smith  answered  him,  and  the  reply  showed  the 
reputation  the  deceased  had  left  behind  him  in  the  com- 
munity where  he  had  lived  for  twelve  years. 

"  'Twouldn't  be  in  human  nature  for  any  one  to  be 
particular  cut  up  because  Drunken  Dick  passed  in  his 
checks — an'  as  for  his  wife — it's  a  good  riddance  for  her 
I  should  say." 

16 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  1 7 

"Ay,  but  it's  kinder  rough  on  her  all  the  same," 
answered  Hank.  "  A  man's  a  man  even  if  he  never 
drew  a  sober  breath.  What's  the  poor  woman  goin'  to 
do  now,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

"  She'll  worry  along  all  right,"  was  the  reply.  "  There's 
many  that  u'd  help  her  now  that  wouldn't  a  looked  the 
same  side  of  the  street  with  her  while  she  was  tied  to 
that  sot." 

At  the  same  moment  all  that  was  mortal  of  "  that  sot  " 
was  carried  into  the  house  he  had  left  scarce  an  hour 
before  with  all  the  life  that  years  of  dissipation  had 
spared  him. 

A  bright-eyed  eager  boy  came  out  and  ran  to  Mr. 
Byrne. 

"  Oh,  pop,"  he  cried,  "you  wouldn't  never  know  him — 
he's  all  scratched  an'  tore  to  pieces,  an'  awful  white  in 
the  face  considerin'  its  Dick  Morley." 

Mr.  Byrne  turned  on  the  boy  indignantly.  "An'  what 
call  have  ye,  Pat  Byrne,  to  be  lingerin'  round  an'  takin' 
art  or  part  in  the  like.  Go  home  wid  ye,  an'  larn  yer 
lesson." 

"  There's  no  school  to-morrow,  pop — it's  a  holiday,  an' 
I  tell  you  this  here  is  exciting,"  remonstrated  the  boy. 

"  Go  home  now,  and  do  as  I  bid  ye,"  said  Mr.  Byrne, 
severely.  The  youngster  withdrew,  but  paused  as  soon 
as  he  was  out  of  his  father's  sight,  and  hung  round  the 
edge  of  the  group  waiting  to  see  what  would  happen 
next. 

But  the  excitement  was  nearly  over.  Judge  Boone  and 
the  other  men,  who  had  carried  up_the  body,  trooped  out 
of  the  house,  their  heavy  boots  clattering  on  the  wooden 
steps  of  the  veranda.  The  Judge  closed  the  door  as  he 


1 8  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

came  out,  but  seeing  Kate  Morley  outside  he  opened  it 
again  and  held  it  for  her  to  enter.  She  did  not  seem  to 
notice  the  attention,  but  stood  leaning  against  the  wall, 
silent,  with  downcast  eyes. 

"  Where's  the  doctor  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Field,  as  if  he  had 
just  thought  of  something. 

"  The  doctor's  up  to  Orvietas'  ranch  and  can't  be  back 
much  before  midnight,"  answered  Boone.  "  But  what  do 
we  want  of  a  doctor  ?  To  tell  us  the  man's  dead  ?  I  can 
tell  you  that  much  myself." 

"  Still,  it  would  be  more  regular,"  persisted  Field.  He 
was  the  editor  of  the  local  paper,  a  sharp,  shrewd,  med- 
dlesome little  man  from  Connecticut.  His  close-set  gray 
eyes  and  fluffy,  straggling,  red  whiskers,  combined  with 
an  alert,  inquisitive  manner,  involuntarily  reminded 
people  of  a  terrier.  To  this  apt  adjustment  of  manner 
and  appearance  he  owed  his  universal  nickname,  "  Foxy 
Field." 

"  Well,  Jack,"  said  the  sheriff,  rousing  himself,  "  come 
along.  I  can't  let  you  out  of  my  sight  till  I  lodge  you 
in  San  Antonio  jail,  and  that'll  be  to-morrow  morning 
bright  and  early." 

Judge  Boone  linked  his  arm  in  Field's  and  drew  him 
over  to  a  little  group  of  men — Hank  Dollett,  Smith,  and 
a  few  others  who  stood  apart  conversing  in  low  tones. 

Kate  Morley  looked  up  suddenly.  The  babble  of 
comment  and  conversation  around  her  had  seemingly 
passed  her  by,  but  the  sheriff's  deep  voice  awakened  and 
commanded  her  attention. 

"  What's  that,  Mr.  Starkweather  ? "  she  asked,  coming 
a  few  steps  forward. 

"  Nothing,  nothing,  Mrs.  Morley,"  answered  the  sheriff 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  19 

kindly.  "  Dear  heart,  how  wild  you  look !  Won't  you 
go  in  and — and  rest  ?  It'll  be  lonesome  for  you,  I  sup- 
pose, too,  but — tell  you  what ;  you  go  in  and  lie  down  for 
an  hour  and  I'll  send  my  daughter  Lucy  to  sit  with  you 
as  soon  as  I  get  down  to  the  hotel." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  she  persisted.  "  What  were  you  say- 
ing to  Mr.  Scott  about  jail  ?  For  heaven's  sake,  man," 
she  went  on,  raising  her  voice  as  the  sheriff  did  not 
reply,  "  you  don't  suspect  him  of — "  She  pointed  to  the 
house  with  an  eloquent  gesture  which  completed  her 
meaning  better  than  words. 

"  I  believe  they  do,  Mrs.  Morley,"  said  Jack  ;  "  and  it 
can't  be  denied  that  there  are  a  good  many  ugly  looking 
facts  to  be  explained.  There's  one  you  can  help  me  on. 
You  must  have  known  that  poor  Dick  had  my  pistol  yes- 
terday." 

"Had  he?"  inquired  Kate;  "I  don't  know.  He 
never  tells — I  mean  he  never  told  me  anything."  Then, 
noticing  Jack's  look  of  disappointment,  she  hastened  to 
add  :  "  I  know  he  had  a  pistol — he  was  fussing  over  the 
lock  of  one  all  the  morning." 

"  See,  Mrs.  Morley,"  said  Starkweather :  "  you  know 
Jack  Scott,  and  I  know  him,  and  we  neither  of  us  believe 
that  it  lies  inside  of  his  skin  to  commit  a  cowardly  mur- 
der like  that.  All  it  wants  is  a  few  days  to  clear  up 
things,  for  it  can't  be  denied — as  he  says  himself — that 
there  are  queer  circumstances.  Look  at  here  !  Jack  here 
and  Dick  Morley  had  high  words — " 

"  My  poor  husband  was  always  qu-arrelling  with  every- 
body," interrupted  the  widow. 

"  You're  right,  he  was ;  but  this  was  an  especially  pep- 
pery quarrel,  for  Foxy  Field  and  Judge  Boone  heard  it. 


20  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

They  heard  it,  and  saw  Jack  enter  the  chaparral  by  the 
path  under  the  live  oak  yonder.  And  out  of  that  very 
path,  not  two  minutes  after,  comes  a  shot  that  picks  the 
old  man  off  the  rock  where  he  was  lounging,  and  tumbles 
him  head  first  down  the  gully." 

"  I  heard  it,  I  heard  it,"  groaned  Kate,  "  and  I  saw — " 
She  broke  off  and  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  Of  course  you  saw.  And  right  around  the  very  spot 
where  the  shot  came  from  Hank  Dollett  picks  up  a  pistol 
which  Jack  Scott  acknowledges  for  his  own." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Scott.  "  It  is  my  pistol,  and  I  don't 
believe  there's  another  like  it  in  San  Antonio  County." 

"  So  there  you  see,  ma'am,"  said  the  sheriff,  spreading 
out  the  fingers  of  one  hand  and  ticking  off  the  evidence, 
point  by  point,  with  the  other,  "  there's  the  quarrel, 
there's  the  shot,  there's  the  point  it  comes  from  ;  there's 
the  fact  that  no  one  else  was  seen  in  that  direction,  and 
there's  the  pistol,  the  biggest  point  of  all." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  and  the  voices  of  men,  a 
dozen  paces  off,  came  across  the  clearing.  Jack  glanced 
towards  them,  and  saw  the  tall,  stooping  figure  of  Haman 
Jeffries,  the  schoolmaster.  He  had  joined  the  group, 
and  was  listening  to  their  remarks,  though  apparently 
taking  no  active  part  in  the  conversation.  Jack  stepped 
eagerly  forward. 

"  There's  Mr.  Jeffries  at  last,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Now 
we'll  see." 

"  Gently,  my  boy,  gently,"  said  the  sheriff,  laying 
hand  on  the  young  man's  arm.  "  You  and  I  must  travel 
together  for  the  present." 

Jack  hung  his  head  and  colored  deeply.  He  was 
beginning  to  realize  what  captivity  meant. 


JUD  GE  L  YNCH.  2 1 

Kate  Morley,  with  quick  womanly  sympathy,  caught 
Jack's*  hand  in  both  of  hers. 

"  I  don't  care  what  proof  they  have  ;  I  don't  care  what 
they  say  ;  I'll  never  believe  that  you  killed  Dick  unless  it 
was  by  accident." 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Morley,"  said  Jack,  "but  I  am 
innocent  of  his  death.  I  never  fired  that  shot,  and  I 
think  I  can  break  one  link  in  the  cursed  chain  that  con- 
nects me  with  the  crime  right  here  and  now." 

Then  he  raised  his  voice,  and  called  aloud,  "  Mr.  Jef- 
fries, Mr.  Jeffries  ! " 

The  schoolmaster  started  and  came  forward.  He 
uncovered  to  the  widow  in  her  torn  gown  with  the  same 
deference  he  had  shown  toward  Miss  Starkweather  and 
her  New  York  friend.  Mrs.  Morley  turned  away  as  if  to 
avoid  him,  but  Haman  Jeffries  did  not  seem  offended. 
In  spite  of  his  strange  appearance  he  was  evidently  a 
gentleman  by  breeding,  and  made  all  allowance  for  the 
poor  woman  in  the  hour  of  her  sudden  bereavement. 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  Mr.  Scott  ?  "  he  asked. 
His  manner  was  pleasant  and  he  had  a  good  address. 

As  Mr.  Byrne  had  remarked  when  the  man  first  came 
to  San  Pablo  :  "  When  ye've  got  used  to  looking  at  Ham 
Jeffries  ye've  got  over  the  worst  of  him.  He's  a  good- 
hearted  poor  devil,  and  pleasant  to  talk  to,  but  he's  a 
mortial  homely  man,  savin'  your  presence." 

"  Mr.  Jeffries,"  said  Scott,  "  I  have  been  arrested  for 
the  murder  of  Richard  Morley." 

The  schoolmaster  inclined  his  head.  "  So  I  have 
heard,  Mr.  Scott,  and  I  have  heard  it  with  pain.  Allow 
me  to  hope  that  your  innocence  may  be  speedily  estab- 
lished." 


22  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"I  am  in  hopes  that  you  may  help  me  to  do  that,"  con- 
tinued Jack,  and  his  heart  beat  quicker  as  he  realized 
how  momentous  was  the  question  he  was  about  to  ask. 
After  all,  old  Dick  Morley  had  been  a  notorious  liar,  and 
if  what  he  had  told  Scott— a  short  half  hour  before  his 
death — should  prove  to  be  untrue,  the  young  man's  case 
would  be  black  indeed. 

Boone,  Dollett,  Smith,  Field,  and  a  half  dozen  more 
followed  Jeffries  as  he  came  forward.  Mr.  Byrne  had 
discovered  his  son  still  on  the  ground,  feasting  full  on 
horrors,  and  had  led  him  home  by  the  ear.  Starkweather 
still  kept  his  hand  on  Jack's  shoulder. 

"  Did  Dick  Morley  give  you  a  pistol  to  return  to  me  ? " 
asked  Jack. 

Jeffries  looked  surprised.  "  No,"  he  answered,  "  what 
should  he  have  done  that  for  ? " 

Jack's  heart  sank,  but  he  did  not  despair.  "  I  left  a 
pistol  with  Dick  to  have  the  lock  made  easier.  I  called 
for  it  to-day  and  he  told  me  he  had  given  it  to  Hainan 
Jeffries  to  return  to  me." 

Kate  Morley  stepped  forward  and  faced  the  school- 
master. "  Speak  the  truth  now,  Haman  Jeffries,  as  in 
the  sight  of  heaven,"  she  said. 

Jeffries'  voice  had  a  caressing  tone  as  he  answered 
Kate.  "  I  was  brought  up  to  speak  the  truth,  Mrs. 
Morley,"  he  responded.  Then  he  turned  to  Jack. 
"  Colonel  Morley  said  nothing  to  me  about  a  pistol." 

"  At  least  he  told  me  he  did,"  said  Jack,  profoundly 
discouraged. 

"  And  your  only  witness  is  the  man  you  have  just 
shot,"  remarked  Field,  with  a  sneer. 

"  Mr.  Field,"  cried  the  sheriff  sternly,  "  this  man  has 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  23 

been  arrested  on  suspicion.  I  will  thank  you  not  to  pre- 
judge the  case." 

Mrs.  Morley  stood  looking  fixedly  at  Jeffries  as  he 
pronounced  the  words  that  seemed  to  shatter  Jack's  last 
hope.  Then  the  color  faded  out  of  her  cheeks,  she  cov- 
ered her  face  with  her  hands  and  sank  on  her  knees. 

"  Poor  creature  !  "  murmured  Jeffries,  in  a  tone  of  deep 
pity. 

"  God  help  the  widow,"  said  Judge  Boone  solemnly. 
Then  he  turned  fiercely  on  the  prisoner.  "  Look  at  your 
work  there,  Jack  Scott,"  he  cried. 

"  Silence  !  "  shouted  the  sheriff.  "  Scott,  come  with 
me,"  and  linking  his  arm  into  that  of  the  young  man  he 
drew  him  off  down  the  steep  track  toward  the  village. 

The  men  watched  the  pair  till  the  chaparral  hid  them 
from  view.  Then  they  exchanged  glances,  and  a  few 
whispered  words  passed  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  There  can't  be  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  Smith. 

"  No.  doubt  at  all,"  echoed  Field  ;  "  we're  all  decided, 
gentlemen  !  " 

Then  there  was  another  moment  of  rapid  whispering, 
during  which  Jeffries  attempted  to  raise  Kate  Morley  to 
her  feet.  She  sprang  up,  and,  shaking  him  off  with  a 
gesture  of  repulsion,  went  toward  the  house.  Jeffries 
turned  back  to  the  group  with  a  touch  of  impatience  in 
his  manner  and  a  faint  color  in  his  cheek. 

He  reached  the  others  just  as  Judge  Boone  said  in  a 
low  voice  :  "  Then,  gentlemen,  it's  all  settled — the  Com- 
mittee of  Safety  will  meet  to-night." 


CHAPTER   III. 

JACK  SCOTT  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York,  some 
twenty-eight  years  before  the  day  he  was  arrested  for 
Colonel  Morley's  murder.  When  quite  a  young  man  he 
drifted  out  to  the  Pacific  coast,  attracted,  like  many 
others,  by  the  large  rewards  and  fine  business  opportu- 
nities San  Francisco  was  supposed  to  offer.  Like  many 
others,  he  was  disappointed,  and  soon  found  himself 
forced  to  turn  his  hand  to  anything  that  presented  itself, 
without  reference  to  his  original  intentions.  In  San 
Francisco  you  shall  meet  clergymen  who  are  book- 
keepers, book-keepers  who  are  doctors,  doctors  who  are 
teamsters,  and  a  fair  sprinkling  of  the  liberal  professions 
ringing  up  fares  on  the  street  cars.  So  it  was  neither 
unusual  nor  surprising  that  Jack  Scott,  bred  at  the  desk 
of  a  New  York  merchant,  should  go  about  picking  up 
local  items  for  a  morning  paper.  Indeed,  the  young  man 
was  fortunate  to  find  employment  in  this  direction,  and 
he  often  felicitated  himself,  and  thanked  Mr.  James  Rug- 
gles  for  the  position,  uncongenial  as  it  was. 

Mr.  James  Ruggles — better  known  as  Jimmy  Ruggles 
— was  at  that  time  city  editor  of  the  Morning  Summons. 
Jack  and  he  had  been  school  friends  and  near  neighbors 
in  New  York,  but,  while  Jimmy  had  adopted  journalism 
as  a  profession,  Jack  had  merely  drifted  into  it  from 
force  of  circumstances.  It  was  a  living  for  the  moment 
to  Scott;  it  was  a  livelihood  and  a  future  to  Ruggles. 

24 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  2$ 

The  one  was  always  seeking  to  get  on  in  it ;  the  other 
was  as  earnestly  anxious  to  get  out  of  it. 

Jack's  opportunity  came  at  last.  Chance  brought  him 
in  the  way  of  Mr.  Byrne.  The  Hon.  Pat  had  come  to 
San  Francisco  in  furtherance  of  one  of  the  many  schemes 
which  made  him  the  busiest  man  in  Southern  California. 
For  some  time  he  had  been  turning  over  the  idea  of  start- 
ing a  weekly  paper  in  San  Antonio  County — an  idea 
which  eventually  took  shape  in  the  San  Pablo  Independent 
— and  meeting  Scott  Mr.  Byrne  fancied  that  he  had 
found  the  editor  he  was  seeking.  Business  details  were 
soon  arranged :  a  hearty  good-by  and  godspeed  from 
Jimmy  Ruggles  constituted  Jack's  hardest  parting,  and 
he  accompanied  the  Hon.  Pat  down  the  coast  to  San 
Pablo. 

Jack  was  content  and  happy  in  his  new  life.  The 
country  was  strange  to  him  ;  the  people  were  interesting, 
at  least  some  of  them  were,  and  it  is  within  every  one's 
experience  that  even  one  person  may  shed  a  brightness 
over  any  place  and  period.  The  one  person,  who  in 
Jack's  case  was  endowed  with  this  magical  power  was 
Miss  Lucy  Starkweather.  It  was  true  that  her  home  was 
in  San  Antonio,  eighteen  long  miles  away  over  the 
mountains ;  but  distances  are  not  too  closely  reckoned  in 
Southern  California. 

The  young  lady  sometimes  accompanied  her  father  to 
San  Pablo.  Jack  Scott  often  found  or  invented  excuses 
to  go  to  San  Antonio,  and  though  no  word  of  love  had 
ever  passed  between  the  two  young  people,  a  very  pleas- 
ant friendship  grew  out  of  their  frequent  meetings. 

Nearly  a  year  elapsed  after  Jack  Scott's  arrival  in  San 
Pablo  before  the  Independent  was  started,  and  when  the 


26  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

paper  did  appear  the  young  man  was  not  its  editor.  He 
had  found  a  far  more  congenial  position,  and  one  which 
suited  him  better  in  every  way.  On  his  arrival,  having 
much  leisure  time  on  his  hands,  and  feeling  that  he  owed 
something  to  Pat  Byrne,  who  had  paid  his  salary  from  the 
day  they  left  San  Francisco,  Jack  had  gone  over  the 
books  and  accounts  of  the  Hon.  Pat's  multifarious  busi- 
ness. He  found  a  strange  jumble.  Vineyard  items  were 
mixed  up  with  the  receipts  of  the  Spread  Eagle  sample 
room,  and  rents  and  transactions  in  real  estate  figured 
among  the  profits  of  the  local  livery  stable.  With  the 
method  of  a  trained  book-keeper,  Jack  went  to  work  to 
straighten  out  the  tangle,  and  the  result  of  a  few  weeks' 
industry  was  a  revelation  to  Mr.  Byrne.  That  gentleman, 
by  the  aid  of  a  prodigious  memory  and  certain  simple  and 
elementary  aids  thereto,  had  contrived  to  transact 
his  many-sided  business  without  serious  loss  or  incon- 
venience. Perhaps,  too,  the  luck  that  had  aided  him 
in  accumulating  his  fortune  stood  to  him  still  and  enabled 
him  to  preserve  and  add  to  it;  but  though  a  man  of  .little 
or  no  education  his  native  shrewdness  and  ability — and 
he  possessed  a  good  deal  of  both — showed  him  the  value 
of  the  system  Jack  had  introduced  into  his  affairs. 

All  question  of  the  Independent  was  at  once  dropped. 
Jack  Scott  was  engaged  at  a  largely  increased  salary  as 
Mr.  Byrne's  book-keeper  and  general  manager,  and 
when  the  paper  did  eventually  appear,  some  months  later, 
it  was  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  Field,  who  had  been 
engaged  in  San  Francisco  to  edit  it. 

Jack  had  brought  with  him  one  letter  of  introduction, 
not  that  he  needed  it,  for  Mr.  Byrne,  of  course  knew 
everybody,  but  Jimmy  Ruggles  had  written  and  offered 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  2 7 

the  letter,  and  Jack  had  naturally  accepted  it,  and  in  due 
course  had  presented  it.  Colonel  Morley  and  Jimmy 
Ruggles  were  first  cousins ;  the  Colonel  was  Jimmy's 
senior,  and  the  two  had  met  but  once  or  twice  in  their 
lives.  Probably  had  Ruggles  known  his  cousin  a  little 
better  he  would  have  attempted  to  ignore  the  relationship 
altogether.  He  would  scarcely  have  emphasized  it  by  a 
letter  of  introduction,  for  Richard  Morley  was  not  a  rela- 
tive to  be  proud  of. 

In  the  first  place,  his  title  of  colonel  was  purely  myth- 
ical. He  served  in  the  early  part  of  the  war,  certainly, 
and  still  drew  his  pension  for  wounds  received  at  that 
period,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  he  ever  attained  any  military 
rank — certainly  he  never  reached  the  grade  of  colonel. 
He  described  himself  as  having  been  mustered  out,  some- 
times as  captain,  sometimes  as  brigadier  general,  some- 
times anything  intermediate.  Below  the  former  he  never 
sank;  below  the  latter  he  never  rose,  and  the  rank 
assumed  was,  to  those  who  knew  him,  a  fair  gauge  of  the 
man's  degee  of  intoxication  at  the  moment. 

Morley  was  a  slave  to  liquor,  and  even  in  a  community 
most  charitable  toward  that  failing  he  had  earned  the 
name  of  Drunken  Dick.  He  had  sunk  lower  and  lower 
in  the  scale  each  year,  and  was  only  saved  from  utter 
destitution  and  reprobation  by  his  wife. 

Kate  Morley's  conduct  in  the  exceptionally  trying  cir- 
cumstances in  which  she  found  herself  excited  every  one's 
admiration.  She  rarely  uttered  a  complaint ;  she  worked 
hard  and  endured  her  lot  in  silence.  The  proceeds  of 
the  little  general  store,  which  was  at  once  her  home  and 
her  livelihood,  served  to  keep  a  roof  over  her  head. 
Dick,  who  was  naturally  of  a  handy  mechanical  turn, 


28  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

sometimes  earned  a  dollar  or  two  by  repairing  a  tool,  or  a 
machine,  or  a  fire-arm  which  was  out  of  order ;  but,  of 
course,  he  could  only  work  in  his  sober  moments,  and 
they  were  infrequent.  The  little  he  received,  however,  as 
well  as  the  amount  of  his  pension,  went  for  liquor.  No 
penny  ever  passed  from  Dick  Morley  to  his  wife. 

People  wondered  sometimes  how  a  handsome,  spirited 
young  woman  like  Kate  Morley  had  ever  come  to  marry 
such  a  man  as  Dick,  and  Pat  Byrne,  who  was  neither 
dirHdent  nor  delicate,  put  the  question  to  her  in  so  many 
words  : 

"I  dunno  how  it  is,  Mrs.  Morley,"  he  said,  "that  a 
fine  lump  of  a  girl  like  yourself — no  offence  in  life, 
ma'am,  but  sure  it's  the  truth,  an'  yer  glass  'ud  tell  ye  if 
I  didn't.  I  dunno  at  all  how  the  devil — savin'  yer  pres- 
ence— ye  ever  come  to  marry  an  old  soak  like  Drunken 
Dick." 

"  He  was  not  always  Drunken  Dick,  Mr.  Byrne,"  Kate 
answered  with  a  heavy  sigh.  "  When  I  met  him  he  was 
a  dashing  young  soldier.  I  was  a  nurse  in  the  hospital, 
you  know,  and  it  was  when  he  was  wounded  and  weak 
that  I  knew  him  first.  I  nursed  him  back  to  life,  and  I 
suppose  he  took  a  fancy  to  me — and  I  was  interested  in 
him,  and — " 

"An'  ye  married  him.  That's  about  the  size  of  it. 
Well,  well,  well,  it  should  be  a  warnin'  to  all  of  us." 

Byrne  fixed  his  eyes  mechanically  on  the  form  of  Dick 
Morley,  who  was  lying  half  asleep  on  a  chair  on  the 
veranda  of  his  house.  It  was  early  in  the  afternoon  of 
Dick  Morley's  last  day  on  earth,  and  if  Mr.  Byrne  could 
have  looked  a  few  hours  into  the  future  no  doubt  his 
eyes  would  have  had  a  different  expression.  As  it  was, 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  29 

however,  they  showed  nothing  but  a  mingling  of  pity  and 
disgust — the  only  emotion  which  a  creature  like  Drunken 
Dick  seemed  capable  of  inspiring. 

"  Ay,  an'  ye  loved  him  once,  I  dare  say.  It's  a  quare 
world — a  quare  world,"  said  Byrne,  meditatively. 

As  he  spoke  Morley  sprung  to  his  feet,  clawing  at  the 
air  and  lunging  wildly  as  if  at  some  invisible  foe. 

"  Ah,  ha !  ye  whelp  !  Ye  will,  will  ye  ?  Take  that ! 
Ye'll  carry  that  mark  to  your  grave." 

"  What's  the  matter  wid  the  man  ?  Is  it  dreamin'  ye 
are  ? "  cried  Byrne,  startled,  for  once,  into  rapid  utter- 
ance. 

Dick  rubbed  his  eyes  and  looked  around  him.  "  Ay, 
it's  a  dream,  I  suppose,"  he  explained.  "  1  thought  I 
was  down  on  the  beach  again  and  the  fellow  went  for 
me—" 

"  Who  went  for  you  ?  "  interrupted  Byrne. 

"  How  the  blazes  do  ye  suppose  I  know  when  it  was  as 
dark  as  a  wolf's  mouth  ?  "  snarled  the  other. 

"  What  is  he  talking  about  ?  "  asked  Byrne,  appealing 
to  Mrs.  Morley. 

"  Haven't  you  heard  ? "  answered  Kate.  "  Richard 
has  been  telling  the  story  to  every  one.  It  seems  last 
night  he  was  coming  home  along  the  beach — " 

"  Wid  an  iligant  jag  on  him,  I'll  be  bound,"  muttered 
Byrne,  parenthetically. 

"  When  some  one  attacked  him ;  it  was  dark,  and  the 
assassin  missed  the  first  blow — " 

"  Ay,  but  I  didn't  miss  mine,"  interjected  Dick,  boast- 
fully. "  I  had  my  knife  handy  and  I  just  sliced  into 
him." 

"  Didn't  ye  dream  it,  Dick  ?  "  asked  Byrne,  laughing. 


30  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

The  other  cursed  volubly  for  a  few  minutes.  "  He'll 
wish  I'd  dreamed  it,"  said  he,  "but  he'll  find  it's  no 
joke.  I'll  bet  I  ripped  up  a  foot  of  his  arm.  the  cowardly 
dago.  I'll  tell  you  how  it  was,  Mr.  Byrne — " 

"No,  don't,  Dick,"  interrupted  Byrne.  "Wait  till 
you've  time  to  get  drunk  over  it  again,  and  broider  up 
the  daytails  a  bit.  Only  last  night,  was  it  ?  Wait  a 
week,  and  it'll  be  an  army  ye've  whipped." 

"  Yes,  you  may  sneer,"  muttered  Morley  sullenly ; 
"  but  we'll  see  What  the  Committee  of  Safety  has  to  say 
about  it." 

"  Is  the  mail  distributed,  Mr.  Byrne  ?  "  inquired  Kate. 

"  Yes,  the  carrier  from  San  Antonio  came  in  an  hour 
ago,"  answered  Byrne.  "  I  had  a  letter  from  me  agint  in 
'Frisco.  He  can  get  no  laborers  to  come  down  into 
these  parts  by  reason  of  the  strike,  an'  the  disturbance 
and  bloodshed  that  have  characterized  the  town." 

"  The  Committee  of  Safety  will  soon  put  that  right," 
remarked  Morley. 

"  Maybe  it  will,  Dick,  and  maybe  it  won't,"  said  Byrne, 
in  his  usual  deliberate  manner.  "  But  meanwhile  me 
grapes  is  rottin'  an'  the  rain  is  comin'  and  them  dagoes 
are  more  onrayssonable  than  a  pack  o'  nagers." 

Thus  grumbling,  Mr.  Byrne  shook  up  his  horse  and 
cantered  off  along  the  San  Antonio  road.  A  little  fur- 
ther on  a  narrow  track  which  tended  southward  among 
the  foothills,  furnished  a  short  cut  to  his  vineyard. 

At  the  same  moment  a  spare,  ungainly  figure,  clad  in 
rusty  black,  appeared  from  the  direction  of  San  Pablo. 
At  sight  of  it  Kate  Morley  turned  abruptly  and  entered 
the  house.  Haman  Jeffries  came  forward  and  joined 
Dick  on  the  veranda. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  schoolmaster  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  Mor- 
ley's,  but  as  a  rule  by  no  means  welcome.  Dick  Morley 
was  sullen  and  cross-grained,  and  appreciated  no  caller 
who  did  not  bring  whiskey  in  his  pocket,  and  Haman 
was  the  one  unswerving  teetotaller  of  whom  San  Pablo 
could  boast. 

As  for  Kate,  the  sense  of  degradation  with  which  her 
husband's  infirmity  filled  her,  made  her  shrink  from 
society,  and  she  avoided  every  one  as  much  as  possible. 
Jack  Scott,  perhaps,  was  an  exception.  He  had  early 
seen  how  matters  stood  in  the  Morley  household,  and  by 
a  chivalrous  avoidance  of  the  disagreeable  topic,  or  by 
a  light-hearted,  off-hand  way  he  had  of  finding  excuses 
when  Dick  became  too  obvious,  he  had  won  greatly  on 
Mrs.  Morley's  regard.  For  Jeffries,  however,  she  had  a 
profound  dislike — a  dislike  that  bordered  on  disgust — a 
disgust  that  had  in  it  a  tinge  of  horror.  It  would  have 
been  difficult  for  Kate  to  analyze  the  feelings  with  which 
she  regarded  him.  The  truth  probably  was  that  she  was 
a  warm-blooded,  passionate  woman — full  of  life,  while  he 
was  a  gloomy  mystic,  eaten  up  with  morbid  self-imagin- 
ings and  uncouth  superstitions.  He  seemed  to  enjoy 
Kate's  society,  however,  whenever  he  could  surprise  her 
into  bestowing  it  upon  him,  and  used  to  torment  the  poor 
woman  by  relating  to  her  his  fantastic  dreams,  and  preach- 
ing his  favorite  doctrine  of  blind  fatalism. 


32  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Colonel  Morley  regarded  Jeffries  and  Jack  Scott  with 
an  impartial  hatred.  Drunken  Dick  had  once  loved  his 
handsome  wife,  and  in  the  dim  recesses  of  his  liquor- 
steeped  brain  still  smouldered  a  spark  of  jealousy.  He 
did  not  like  any  one  to  notice  Kate.  He  saw  that  Jef- 
fries often  sought  her  society ;  he  fancied,  when  she 
chanced  to  meet  Jack  Scott,  that  he  could  detect  in  her 
manner  a  trace  of  the  liveliness  and  spirit  he  had  ad- 
mired in  her  as  a  girl,  and  he  hated  both  the  men  in  his 
heart. 

He  received  the  schoolmaster  with  some  touch  of  civil- 
ity, however,  as  the  latter  crossed  the  open  space  and 
joined  him  on  the  veranda.  Dick  was  a  hero  in  his  own 
eyes  at  the  moment,  and  was  glad  to  narrate  the  midnight 
attack  which  had  been  made  upon  him  at  the  beach,  and 
the  energy  and  courage  with  which  he  repelled  it.  This 
he  did  in  a  loud,  boastful  tone,  and  with  many  oaths, 
while  Jeffries  listened  politely  indeed,  but  with  the  doubt- 
ful smile  and  air  of  mental  reservation,  with  which  most 
statements  of  Dick  Morley's  were  apt  to  be  received. 
Dick  noticed  his  manner. 

"  You  don't  believe  me,  I  suppose,"  he  asked. 

"  Why  should  I  doubt  you,  Colonel  Morley,"  returned 
the  other. 

"  I  don't  know  why  you  should,  except  because  your 
liver  is  as  white  as  your  face,  and  you  don't  know  a  man 
when  you  see  one.  Do  you  know  what  this  is  ?  "  Dick 
went  on,  pulling  a  revolver  from  his  pocket. 

"  Of  course  ;  that  is  a  revolver,"  answered  Jeffries. 

"  If  I'd  had  the  good  luck  to  have  had  this  little  fellow 

along  last  night,  I'd  have  filled  that so  full  of  lead 

that  you  might  have  staked  his  carcass  out  for  a  claim." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  33 

Jeffries  shuddered  a  little  and  drew  back.  Then,  as  if 
overcoming  a  weakness  he  was  ashamed  of,  he  leaned 
forward  and  took  the  revolver. 

"  If  you're  going  down  toward  the  village,"  added 
Dick,  "you  might  take  it  with  you.  It'll  save  the  owner 
a  walk  up  here  after  it,  and  save  me  from  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  him  round  here — which  I  don't  hanker  after." 

"  I'll  leave  it  with  pleasure,"  assented  Jeffries.  "  Whose 
is  it?" 

"  It's  Jack  Scott's,  and  I've  made  a  good  job  of  it,  too. 
The  lock  was  rusted  clear  through,  but  I've  fixed  it,  I 
guess.  Byrne  was  here  a  while  ago,  and  I  might  have 
given  it  to  him,  but  I  didn't  think  of  it." 

"  I'll  leave  it  with  the  bartender  at  the  Spread  Eagle  if 
I  don't  see  Mr.  Scott,"  said  Jeffries.  He  handled  the 
pistol  cautiously,  as  if  the  touch  of  such  a  weapon  was 
unfamiliar  to  him,  and  Dick  laughed  at  his  terror. 

"  You  are  not  much  used  to  these  tools,  I  take  it,"  he 
observed. 

"  No,"  answered  Jeffries.     "  It  is  loaded,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it's  loaded.  It  was  when  I  got  it,  an'  I  ain't 
stealing  any  one's  cartridges — least  of  all  any  that  belong 
to  the  '  hero  of  San  Pablo.'  " 

This  was  the  title  that  local  acclaim  had  fastened  on 
Jack  Scott,  in  consequence  of  his  daring  conduct  one 
stormy  night  the  preceding  March.  A  vessel  had  gone 
ashore  on  the  Dead  Man's  Reef,  about  a  mile  above  San 
Pablo,  and  Jack,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his  life,  had  suc- 
ceeded in  taking  a  line  to  the  doomed  ship.  By  this 
means  communication  had  been  established  with  the 
shore  and  all  hands  saved.  The  young  man's  gallant 
conduct  had  been  recognized  by  the  rescued  people  with 
3 


34  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

a  medal,  and  by  his  fellow-townsmen  with  three  ringing 
cheers  and  the  title  "  The  Hero  of  San  Pablo." 

But  the  schoolmaster  was  not  a  man  to  recognize  dis- 
tinctions, or  to  defer  to  the  "  bit  of  purple  "  wherein 
humanity  is  so  ready  to  wrap  a  brave  deed. 

"  Colonel  Morley,"  he  said,  "  every  man's  life  is 
appointed  for  him  beforehand.  Death  will  come  when 
it  is  to  come,  without  reference  to  the  risks  we  run  or 
the  care  we  take  of  ourselves.  I  acknowledge  no 
heroes." 

" No,"  returned  Dick;  "if  it's  all  fixed  that  a  man's 
to  be  hanged  he'll  never  be  drowned.  That'll  keep  your 
head  above  water." 

Jeffries  made  no  reply,  but  sat  turning  the  pistol  in 
his  hand.  Morley  watched  him  for  a  moment  and  then 
resumed. 

"  You'll  cheat  the  hangman  if  you  monkey  with  that 
tool  that  way." 

Jeffries  hastily  thrust  the  revolver  into  his  pocket. 
"  I  have  had  little  experience  with  deadly  weapons,"  he 
said. 

"  Never  laid  out  your  man,  I  suppose  ? "  Dick 
queried. 

"  No  ! "  answered  the  other,  horrified  ;  "  have  you  ?  " 

"I  have  been  in  the  war  and  have  done  my  share  of 
shooting,"  replied  Dick. 

Jeffries  'was  manifestly  disturbed.  "If  I  killed  a 
man,"  he  said,  "  I  should  expect  to  hear  his  dying 
moan  in  every  breeze  that  whistled  past  me — I  should 
look  for  his  dying  face  to  peer  out  at  me  from  the  wav- 
ing chaparral — " 

"Better  let  shooting  alone  if  you  have'n't  more  grit 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  35 

than  that,"  interrupted  Dick,  roughly.  "  Why,  man,  do 
you  believe  in  ghosts  ?  " 

"  Can  any  of  us  say  what  we  believe  in  and  what  we 
disbelieve  ?  "  answered  the  schoolmaster.  "  But  in  any 
case  bloodshed  is  terrible." 

"  You  bet  it  is,  when  there  is  a  committee  of  safety 
in  working  order,"  retorted  Morley. 

Jeffries  was  evidently  nervous  under  the  turn  the  con- 
versation had  taken.  He  sought  to  change  it. 

"How  is  Mrs.  Morley?  "  he  asked. 

"Better  than  she  deserves  to  be,"  replied  Morley, 
gruffly,  "  deserting  her  husband  in  this  way." 

"  Deserting — I  don't  understand,"  said  Jeffries.  "  Is 
she  going  away  ?  " 

"  She's  talking  of  it.  She  wants  to  go  to  Memphis 
and  nurse  yellow  fever." 

Jeffries  remained  silent  for  a  moment,  looking  toward 
the  house.  Morley  watched  him  with  an  evil  grin  upon 
his  face. 

"She  used  to  be  a  hospital  nurse,  I  believe,"  the 
schoolmaster  said  at  last. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Morley  ;  "  what  then  ?  I  can't  spare 
her  just  now." 

"If  a  human  being  has  but  One  chance  of  happiness," 
murmured  Jeffries,  with  his  eyes  still  fixed  on  the  door, 
"  and  if  there  is  but  a  single  obstacle  in  his  path  upward 
— "  He  stopped  abruptly  and  clenched  his  hand. 
"What  is  crime  ?  Only  an  evolution  of  fate." 

"What  the  devil  are  you  maundering  about  ?  D'ye  see 
a  ghost  now  ?  "  asked  Dick,  impatiently. 

Jeffries  roused  himself  with  a  start.  "  I  beg  your 
pardon,  Colonel  Morley ;  I  was  thinking  of  other  things. 


36  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

I  must  return  to  town  ;  good  day,  sir,"  and  without  a 
backward  glance  the  schoolmaster  moved  off  across  the 
clearing  and  was  presently  lost  in  the  windings  of  the 
chaparral. 

"Queer  snoozer — more'n  half  mad,"  muttered  Dick, 
taking  a  bottle  from  his  pocket  and  indulging  himself 
with  a  long  pull  at  its  contents.  "  He's  no  good." 

Kate  came  out  on  the  veranda.  "  Is  he  gone  ?  "  she 
asked  ;  then,  noticing  the  bottle  in  her  husband's  hand, 
she  shook  her  head  in  remonstrance.  "  Richard ! 
Richard!  You  know  it  is  a  slow  poison  to  you." 

"  'Tain't  my  fault  that  it  is  not  quicker,"  he  said.  "  I 
suppose  you  wish  it  was." 

Kate  sighed  and  turned  away.  Her  husband  rose  and 
came  down  the  steps. 

"That's  right,"  he  grumbled,  "  turn  your  back  on  me. 
Never  speak  a  word.  Oh,  a  nice,  dutiful,  companionable 
wife  you  are.  Go  to  Memphis  and  die  of  fever  for  all  I 
care.  You're  doing  no  good  here." 

"  I  begin  to  believe  so  myself,"  she  responded  w_earily. 
"  Where  are  you  going  now  ?  "  she  added,  as  he  moved 
off  toward  the  ravine. 

"  Up  on  the  top  of  Table  Rock,  where  I  can  be  out  of 
the  reach  of  your  clanging,  clattering  tongue,"  answered 
her  husband,  going  toward  the  rock,  the  ascent  to  which 
was  easy  enough  from  the  level  on  which  the  cottage 
stood,  though  toward  the  gully  the  face  was  as  precipitous- 
as  a  cliff. 

Kate  returned  no  answer,  but  seated  herself  in  the 
veranda  with  a  piece  of  needle-work  in  her  hands. 

Dick  crossed  the  clearing,  grumbling  all  the  way. 
He  stepped  clown  into  the  road  which  he  had  to  cross  to 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  37 

reach  his  favorite  loafing  ground,  and  met  Jack  Scott, 
who  was  walking  briskly  home  from  the  vineyard, 
whistling  a  quickstep,  and  looking  like  a  man  who  finds 
life  a  pleasant  pastime. 

"  Good  day,  Colonel,"  he  said  cheerfully,  as  he  encoun- 
tered Morley. 

The  other  looked  at  him  sourly  without  replying  to 
the  salutation. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  proceeded  Jack,  "  have  you  got 
that  pistol  of  mine  done  yet  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it's  done,"  growled  Morley.  "  I  gave  it  to  the 
schoolmaster  to  give  to  you.  If  he  didn't  find  you  he 
said  he'd  leave  it  at  the  Spread  Eagle." 

"All  right,"  said  Jack.     "  How  much  to  pay  ?  " 

"Call  it  a  dollar,'' answered  Morley,  and  the  money 
changed  hands. 

"  Going  up  for  your  afternoon's  smoke  ?  "  asked  Jack, 
as  the  other  climbed  the  rock  to  stretch  himself  lux- 
uriously on  the  flat  surface  and  enjoy  every  ray  of  the 
afternoon  sun. 

Morley  uttered  a  grunt,  which  might  be  taken  for 
assent. 

"  I  think  I'll  say  how  do  you  do  to  Mrs.  Morley  as  I 
pass,"  said  Jack,  springing  up  the  roadside  bank  and 
approaching  the  house. 

Morley  seemed  anything  but  pleased  at  this  intimation. 
He  even  half  turned  with  the  intention  of  following 
young  Scott,  but  his  laziness  prevailed,  and  he  soon 
dropped  down  on  the  summit  with  a  muttered  oath  and 
lay  outlined  against  the  evening  sky — a  seedy,  dilapidated, 
prematurely  aged  man. 

Meanwhile  Jack  was  leaning  his  arms  on  the  railing  of 


38  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

the  veranda  and  talking  to  Kate,  who  had  brightened  vis- 
ibly at  his  approach. 

The  young  man,  in  common  with  half  the  county,  knew 
what  the  poor  woman  had  to  put  up  with  from  her 
brutalized  husband,  and  pitied  her  from  the  bottom  of  his 
heart. 

"  I'm  sure  the  place  and — and  the  surroundings  aren't 
doing  you  any  good,"  he  was  saying.  "They  tell  me  this 
end  of  the  village  isn't  very  healthy." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Scott,"  answered  Kate,  smiling 
bitterly.  "  When  I  leave  San  Pablo,  it  will  not  be  in 
search  of  a  health  resort." 

"  I  had  a  letter  from  Jimmy  Ruggles  yesterday,"  went 
on  Jack.  "  He  is  doing  the  vineyards  for  his  paper,  and 
will  probably  take  Mr.  Byrne's  as  he  passes.  He  may  be 
here  to-day  or  to-morrow." 

"Yes;  he  wrote  to  Richard  and  said  he  would  look 
him  up,"  answered  Kate.  "  He  will  find  Richard  much 
changed." 

"  Do  you  know,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  likeness  between 
those  two  ?  "  remarked  Jack. 

"Yes,  they  were  once  considered  very  much  alike,  but 
he  is  so  changed,"  answered  Kate,  with  an  unconscious 
glance  in  the  direction  of  her  husband,  though  he  was 
invisible  from  where  she  sat. 

"  I  shall  be  downright  glad  to  see  dear  old  Jimmy 
again,"  said  Jack  heartily,  "  shan't  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall  scarcely  see  him  unless  he  comes  very  soon," 
answered  Kate  quietly. 

"  Why,  do  you  think  of  going  away  ?  "  asked  Jack  in 
surprise. 

"  I    have    thought    of   it.     Do   you    suppose    you — the 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  39 

people  generally,  I  mean,  would  be  sorry  to  have  me 
go  ?  " 

"I  am  sure  that  everybody  would  regret  it,"  replied 
Jack,  "  and  for  myself,  I  can  answer  that  I  would  miss 
you  very  much." 

"Will  you  let  me  ask  your  advice  ?"  said  Kate  with 
suppressed  eagerness.  "  I  have  so  few  I  can  trust.  I  am 
offered  a  position  as  hospital  nurse  at  Memphis — 

"  At  a  yellow  fever  hospital  ? "  interrupted  Jack. 
"  Impossible  ! " 

"  Wait !  Would  you  go  if  you  were  in  my  place. 
Reflect  what  that  place  is." 

Jack  hesitated.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  I  am  too  young 
a  man  to  advise  you,"  he  said. 

"  You  are  the  only  one  whose  advice  I  would  listen 
to,"  said  Kate  impetuously ;  then,  controlling  herself,  she 
went  on  more  calmly.  "I  mean  you  are  the  only  one  I 
have  to  advise  with.  You  forget  how  completely  I  stand 
alone." 

Jack  felt  painfully  embarrassed.  "  I  cannot  take  the 
responsibility  of  advising  such  a  step,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"  Perhaps  something  may  happen  to  lighten  your  bur- 
den." 

"  What  can  happen  to  me  ? "  asked  Kate,  desperately. 

Jack  glanced  half-unconsciously  in  Morley's  direction 
as  he  answered,  "  Heaven  has  its  own  ways  of  working 
deliverance." 

"The  days  of  miracles  are  past,"  said  Kate,  bitterly. 
"  No,  no,  Mr.  Scott ;  I  was  wrong  to  ask  your  advice,  for 
my  mind  was  already  made  up.  I  shall  go,  and  I  shall 
say  good-by  now."  She  came  down  the  veranda  steps 
and  offered  him  her  hand. 


4O  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  Are  you  going  so  soon  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"  As  soon  as  possible,"  she  answered  in  a  low  voice. 

Jack  took  her  hand  and  held  it  a  moment. 

"  Good-by,  then,"  he  said  gently.  "  I  have  always 
felt  so  sorry  for  you,  but  I  could  do  so  little — 

"  You  have  given  me  your  sympathy,  and  that  is  price- 
less," said  Kate.  They  had  taken  a  few  steps  outward, 
and  were  now  clear  of  the  house.  The  little  group  fell 
under  the  eyes  of  Dick  Morley  as  he  lay  and  smoked. 

He  started  to  his  feet  with  a  savage  oath. 

"  Here,  damn  you,"  he  shouted,  addressing  his  wife, 
"  are  you  running  after  that  young  galoot  before  my  very 
eyes  ?  Get  back  there  into  the  house  where  you  be- 
long." 

Kate  turned  without  a  word  and  went  toward  the 
verandah. 

Morley,  in  a  frenzy  of  passion,  continued  to  hurl  abuse 
after  her  as  long  as  she  remained  in  sight,  shaking  his 
fist  and  gesticulating  like  a  madman. 

Jack  could  bear  it  no  longer.  "  Colonel  Morley,"  he 
said,  "  you  have  no  right  to  insult  that  lady  even  if  she  is 
your  wife." 

"  Oh,  I  haven't,  have  I  ?  "  shrieked  Dick.  "  You're  a 
nice  one,  you  are,  to  teach  me  my  rights  and  duties — 
a  high-stomached  young  whelp  like  you.  I've  flogged 
better  men  than  you  in  my  day." 

Boone  and  Field  chanced  to  come  down  the  vineyard 
path.  They  heard  Morley's  angry  voice  and  grinned 
with  appreciation.  "  Drunken  Dick's  on  the  war-path," 
muttered  the  judge. 

Jack  kept  his  temper  and  walked  down  towards  the  vil- 
lage. Morley  continued  to  hurl  vile  epithets  after  him. 


fUDGE  LYNCH.  41 

When  he  reached  the  edge  of  the  chaparral  the  young 
m^n  turned,  and  said  : 

"  See  here,  Dick  Morley !  You  may  curse  all  the 
world  at  your  own  good  pleasure,  but  you'll  please  weigh 
your  words  if  you  ever  address  me  again,  or  I'll  find  a 
way  of  stopping  that  vile  tongue  of  yours." 

"Why,  it  was  Jack  Scott  he  was  rowing  with,"  re- 
marked Field  to  Boone.  "  Come  along,  Judge,  and  let's 
see  what  the  trouble  is." 

The  two  men  ran  briskly  down  the  road  and  reached 
the  clearing.  Morley  was  standing  on  the  Table  Rock 
shaking  his  fist  in  impotent  rage  in  the  direction  of  Jack 
Scott,  who  was  just  vanishing  among  the  undergrowth 
that  lined  the  lower  road. 

"  Damn  him,"  shouted  Dick,  "  he's  run.  That's  a  nice 
way  to  threaten  an  old  soldier  with  half  the  settlement 
between  us.  If  I'd  only  my  gun  here — " 

He  said  no  more,  but  broke  off  abruptly,  wildly  beat- 
ing the  air  on  the  very  edge  of  the  fearful  chasm.  A  pis- 
tol shot  rang  out  from  the  border  of  the  chaparral,  a  faint 
blue  smoke  curled  upward  from  the  spot,  and  before 
Field  or  Boone  could  take  a  step  forward,  before  Kate, 
startled  by  the  report,  could  reach  the  road,  Dick  Morley 
pitched  forward  and  went  crashing  down  among  the  un- 
derwood a  hundred  feet  below. 


CHAPTER  V. 

-  Miss  CARRIE  VAN  ZANDT  sat  in  her  window  at  the  San 
Pablo  House  and  looked  out  over  the  plaza.  Darkness 
had  fallen,  but  a  faint  glimmer  diffused  from  stores  and 
saloons  showed  that  the  square  was  crowded  with  men, 
and  every  moment  the  broad  doors  of  the  Spread  Eagle 
just  opposite  swung  open,  and  a  gush  of  ruddy  light 
streamed  across  to  the  entrance  of  the  hotel.  The  whole 
population  seemed  to  be  abroad,  and  the  "dago"  ele- 
ment, overawed  for  once,  had  slunk  into  the  background. 
Miss  Van  Zandt  sat  in  solitude  and  watched  the  shifting 
throng. 

The  young  lady  had  left  New  York  a  few  months  be- 
fore to  visit  relatives  in  San  Francisco.  She  had  keenly 
enjoyed  her  first  taste  of  Pacific  coast  life,  and  had  been 
tempted  by  the  pressing  invitation  of  her  school  friend", 
Lucy  Starkweather,  to  extend  her  wanderings  as  far  as 
San  Antonio.  The  capital  of  San  Antonio  County  was 
not  an  easy  place  to  reach,  and  a  smile  flitted  across  Miss 
Van  Zandt's  pretty  face  as  she  recalled  some  of  the  expe- 
riences of  her  cross-country  staging,  and  how  the  clever 
management  of  a  certain  young  gentleman — a  San  Fran- 
cisco acquaintance  whom  she  had  met  at  Orvietas — had 
smoothed  away  many  a  difficulty  of  the  primitive  journey. 
This  recollection  seemed  to  lead  to  a  pleasant  train  of 
thought,  for  the  girl  dwelt  on  it  for  some  time  and  the 
smile  lingered  in  her  eyes. 

42 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  43 

She  had  not  seen  much  of  San  Antonio.  The  day 
after  her  arrival  Sheriff  Starkweather  had  been  summoned 
to  San  Pablo,  and  had  brought  his  daughter  and  her 
guest  with  him.  Carrie  had  accompanied  him  very  will- 
ingly. She  had  heard  of  the  wild,  rough  life  of  the  Cali- 
fornian  coast  range,  and  was  glad  to  have  an  opportunity 
to  observe  it.  But  her  first  two  days  at  San  Pablo  had 
been  rather  uneventful,  and  the  tragedy  of  that  afternoon, 
though  exciting  enough,  had  only  shocked  her.  For  the 
first  time  since  she  had  left  New  York  she  was  conscious 
of  a  little  homesickness. 

What  could  be  detaining  Lucy?  Miss  Starkweather 
had  gone  to  her  father  as  soon  as  she  learned  that  he 
had  reached  the  hotel,  and  had  been  with  him  ever  since. 
Carrie  glanced  at  her  watch.  Half  an  hour  and  more  she 
had  been  left  alone.  Her  first  impulse  was  one  of  im- 
patience ;  then  she  rippled  out  into  a  little  laugh  that 
ended  in  a  sigh.  Where  the  sheriff  was  there  also  would 
his  prisoner  be,  and  Carrie's  sharp  eyes  had  already  de- 
tected Jack  Scott's  admiration  for  her  schoolmate.  But 
I  he  laugh  soon  merged  in  the  sigh.  The  young  fellow 
was  arrested — charged  with  this  horrible  murder,  and  if 
there  ever  had  been  a  chance  for  a  bit  of  romance  in  that 
quarter,  the  chance  had  vanished  now.  It  was  not  that 
Miss  Van  Zandt  believed  Scott  guilty  of  the  crime  im- 
puted to  him.  Her  brief  acquaintance  with  the  young 
man  had  taught  her  that  he  was  a  gentleman,  and  to  a 
girl  of  Carrie's  antecedents  this  fact  alone  rendered  the 
accusation  absurd.  But  still  it  seemed  nothing  short  of 
impossible  that  a  young  lady  of  her  set  should  marry  a 
man  who  had  been  suspected  of  homicide. 

The   room  had  grown  very  dark,  but  Miss  Van  Zandt 


44  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

would  not  light  a  candle.  She  preferred  to  sit  in  the  win- 
dow and  watch  the  knots  of  men  forming  and  dispersing 
in  the  plaza  under  her  eyes.  All  the  saloons  were  doing 
a  rushing  business.  The  swinging  doors  of  the  Spread 
Eagle  were  scarcely  closed  for  a  minute  at  a  time.  In  a 
general  way  the  crowd  seemed  to  feel  the  effect  of  its 
potations,  but  none  had  drank  to  excess.  It  would  have 
been  difficult  to  single  out  any  single  man  and  say  he  was 
intoxicated. 

The  door  opened  and  Lucy  entered.  She  paused  a 
moment  on  finding  the  room  dark. 

"  Are  you  here,  Carrie  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Yes,  dear,  here  I  am.  Come  to  the  window  and 
watch  people.  San  Pablo  is  in  a  ferment." 

Lucy  came  slowly  forward.  "  Why  are  you  all  in  the 
dark  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  I  couldn't  sit  here  and  look  out  if  I  had  a  light  be- 
hind me,  could  I  ?  "  answered  Carrie.  "  Tell  me,  dear," 
she  went  on,  making  room  for  her  friend  beside  her, 
"  where's  your  father  and — and  Mr.  Scott  ?  " 

"They  have  just  started  for  San  Antonio,"  answered 
the  sheriff's  daughter. 

"A  night  like  this,"  exclaimed  Carrie  in  surprise. 
"Why  they  can't  see  the  road." 

"  Papa  knows  the  way  very  well,"  answered  Lucy. 
"  He  didn't  think  it  was  safe  to  keep  Mr.  Scott  here  over 
night  so  he  took  him  down  to  the  livery  stable,  got  his 
team  out  quietly,  and  started  off  the  back  way." 

"  Didn't  think  it  was  safe  !  "  echoed  Carrie.  "  Why  he 
wasn't  afraid  Mr.  Scott  would  try  to  escape,  was  he  ? " 

"No,  no.  Papa  doesn't  think  Mr.  Scott  guilty  any 
more  than  I  do.  That  was  not  the  danger." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  45 

Lticy  spoke  calmly  but  there  was  a  suggestion  of 
nervous  tension  in  her  voice  and  an  uncertain  tremulous 
motion  of  the  hands  that  did  not  escape  her  companion. 

"What's  the  matter,  Lucy  ?"  she  asked.  "You're  all 
upset  about  something.  Has  anything  happened  ?  " 

Then  Lucy  gave  way  altogether,  and  bending  her  head 
on  her  friend's  shoulder,  sobbed  unrestrainedly  for  a  few 
minutes.  Carrie  did  not  speak,  but  drew  the  weeping 
girl  close  to  her,  and  stroked  her  hair  with  a  soothing 
touch  that  seemed  to  have  an  effect  at  last. 

"  I  am  so  glad  they  have  got  away  safely,"  she  said 
presently.  "  I  suppose  that  is  what  makes  me  so  foolish, 
but  I  feel  better  now." 

"  But  what  is  there  to  be  afraid  of  ? "  persisted  Carrie. 

"  The  Committee  of  Safety,"  answered  Lucy. 

"The  Committee  of  Safety!  What's  that?"  inquired 
the  bewildered  stranger. 

"We  have  had  so  much  disturbance  and  riot  lately," 
explained  Lucy,  "  that  the  citizens  have  organized  a  vigi- 
lance committee  to  keep  order." 

"  You  Californians  are  a  queer  people,"  remarked  the 
New  York  girl.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  have  to  get  up 
a  mob  to  enforce  the  law  ?  Haven't  you  any  policemen  ?  " 

"  Police  !  no,"  answered  Lucy.  "  Papa  is  sheriff,  you 
know,  and  with  the  assistance  of  the  two  deputies  he  is 
supposed  to  keep  the  entire  county  in  order." 

"  '  Supposed  '  is  good,  so  far  as  I  can  see,"  remarked 
Carrie,  glancing  down  at  the  plaza  where  the  crowd 
seemed  to  increase  every  moment. 

"  There's  Judge  Boone,"  said  Lucy,  as  the  doors  of  the 
Spread  Eagle  swung  open ;  "  he's  sure  to  be  a  ring- 
leader. How  glad  I  am  that  papa  has  got  clear  ofT."^ 


46  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  But  if  the  man  is  a  judge,"  remarked  Carrie,  "  surely 
he  will  uphold  the  law." 

"He  isn't  a  judge  really,"  explained  Lucy.  "The 
first  day  he  came  here  he  was  referee  at  a  chicken  fight, 
and  they've  called  him  judge  ever  since.  Titles  don't 
mean  much  here." 

"  Well,  you  Californians  are  the  queerest  people,"  said 
Carrie. 

"  What's  that  ?  what's  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Lucy,  leaning 
forward  anxiously  ;  "  what  are  they  going  to  do  now  ?  " 

There  was  a  movement  in  the  crowd,  and  a  couple  of 
barrels  that  stood  outside  Smith's  store  were  rolled  for- 
ward into  the  center  of  the  plaza.  Some  one  laid  a  plank 
across  them  and  the  extemporary  platform  thus  furnished 
was  at  once  occupied.  The  mob  gathered  round  in  a 
dense  mass,  and  the  speaker,  to  judge  by  his  gestures,  was 
treating  the  bystanders  to  a  very  animated  address. 

Lucy  grew  almost  frantic.  "  Who  is  it,  Carrie — oh, 
who  is  it  ? "  she  gasped. 

"  I  can't  tell,  dear  ;  it  is  so  dark  just  there,"  answered 
the  other. 

At  this  moment  the  doors  of  the  saloon  were  flung  back 
and  a  man  rushed  out.  The  hoarse  applause  as  it  empha- 
sized the  points  of  the  orator,  reached  the  girls  where  they 
sat.  The  light  that  poured  from  the  Spread  Eagle  was 
cut  off  in  a  moment  as  the  doors  swung  to,  but  Lucy  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  speaker's  face,  and  she  sank  back 
in  her  chair. 

"  It  is  Field,"  she  said  faintly. 

"  Mr.  Field,  the  editor  of  the  Independent  ? "  asked 
Carrie.  "Oh,  well,  he'll  keep  them  in  hand.  He'll 
certainly  preach  moderation." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  47 

"  You  don't  know  him,"  said  Lucy.  "  He's  the  most 
mischievous,  unruly — papa  says  he's  a  regular  firebrand. 
Carrie,"  she  added,  springing  impulsively  to  her  feet,  "  I 
must  hear  what  that  man  is  saying." 

She  caught  up  a  long  cloak  which  was  lying  on  a  chair 
and  moved  toward  the  door.  Carrie  started  up  aghast. 

"  Lucy  Starkweather,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you're 
going  out  into  that  crowd  !  " 

"  I  must,  Carrie ;  I  must  hear  what  they  intend  to  do. 
Do  you  know,  if  they  decide  to  execute  their  bloodthirsty 
law  on  poor  Mr.  Scott  nothing  can  save  him — and  papa 
will  lose  his  life  trying  to  defend  him." 

"  But  Lucy,  reflect,"  urged  Carrie,  clinging  to  her 
friend's  dress.  "  What  good  can  you  do — and  they  have 
gone — they're  a  couple  of  miles  on  the  road  to  San  Anto- 
nio by  this  time." 

"  That  is  the  only  comfort  I  have,"  cried  Lucy ;  "  but 
how  do  you  know  they  will  be  safe  in  San  Antonio  ? 
These  men  would  think  nothing  of  following  them — and 
papa  will  not  be  prepared.  I  must  know,  Carrie  ;  I  must 
know.  Let  me  go,"  and  tearing  herself  from  her  friend's 
grasp  Lucy  burst  from  the  room. 

Carrie  hesitated  a  moment.  Her  first  impulse  was  to 
follow,  but  a  wild  shout  from  the  mob  outside  came  just 
in  time  to  unnerve  her.  With  pale  cheeks  and  trembling 
limbs  she  turned  back  to  the  window,  and  dropping  on  her 
knees,  rested  her  elbows  on  the  sill  and  gazed  out  on  the 
square,  which  sent  up  murmurs  through  the  darkness  as 
if  swept  by  the  waves  of  an  invisible  ocean.  She  saw  a 
black-shrouded  figure  pass  out  from  the  hotel  veranda, 
and  she  knew  Lucy  had  mingled  with  the  turbulent 
crowd. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WHEN  Mr.  Byrne  returned  from  Morley's  plateau  that 
afternoon,  leading  by  the  ear  his  son  and  heir,  and  re- 
monstrating with  the  lad  on  the  morbid  taste  for  horrors 
which  he  displayed,  the  honorable  gentleman  had  a 
double  object  in  view.  He  wished  first  to  remove  his 
boy  from  temptation,  and  he  was  also  anxious  to  see  that 
the  bartender  who  presided  at  the  Spread  Eagle  was  alert 
and  ready,  for  Mr.  Byrne  expected  a  large  trade  in  the 
evening.  It  was  within  his  experience  that  any  excite- 
ment or  unusual  occurrence  had  a  tendency  to  promote 
thirst  in  San  Pablo,  and  long  as  he  had  resided  there  he 
had  never  seen  stronger  symptoms  of  excitement  in  the 
village  than  he  had  seen  that  day. 

As  they  passed  the  church  Mr.  Byrne  yielded  to-young 
Pat's  entreaties  to  let  go  his  ear. 

"  Why  aren't  ye  at  home  studyin'  in  yer  book  ? "  in- 
quired the  father,  with  some  asperity. 

"  I  tell  you,  pop,"  answered  the  boy,  "  there's  no  les- 
sons to-morrow  ;  it's  the  school  picnic." 

"  Ay,  so  it  is,"  remarked  Bryne  ;  "  I  might  ha'  known, 
but  this  thing  has  put  everything  out  o'  me  head.  Let 
me  see  ;  ye  go  to  the  vineyard,  don't  ye  ?  " 

"  Of  course  we  do.  Didn't  you  tell  Mr.  Jeffries  that  as 
long  as  you  couldn't  get  your  grapes  picked  he  might  as 
well  have  his  picnic  there,  for  the  more  we'd  eat  the  less 
there'd  be  to  rot  ?  " 

48 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  49 

"  Don't  you  ate  too  much,  Pat,  my  boy,"  said  the 
father;  "  but  sure  ye'd  have  better  sinse  nor  to  do  the 
like  o'  that." 

"  Well,  I  should  smile,"  answered  young  Byrne,  with 
supreme  contempt.  "  Grapes  are  no  treat  to  me.  I  can 
have  all  I  want  any  time.  Let  the  other  kids  burst 
themselves  with  the  trash  if  they  feel  like  it,  but  not  yours 
truly." 

"  That's  right,  me  boy,"  said  his  father  approvingly. 
"  It'll  be  a  thrate  to  the  other  childer,  an'  may  give  the 
docthor  a  job,  which  he  stands  in  nade  of,  the  dacent 
man,  but  you  know  betther." 

By  this  time  they  reached  the  plaza,  and  having 
ordered  Pat  to  "rim  off  an' play  himself/'  Mr.  Byrne, 
senior,  entered  the  Spread  Eagle. 

As  soon  as  the  doors  closed  behind  his  father,  Mr. 
Byrne,  junior,  whose  appetite  for  horrors  was  as  yet  un- 
satisfied, took  the  back  track  at  a  speed  which  would 
make  but  little  of  the  half  mile  or  so  which  separated 
Morley's  plateau  from  the  village  Plaza. 

The  Hon.  Pat  found  the  bartender  at  his  post,  and  a 
loafer,  who  answered  to  the  name  of  Corvey,  when  not 
too  drunk  to  answer  to  anything,  was  endeavoring  to 
negotiate  a  glass  of  liquor  with  the  official  in  charge.  As 
Corvey  had  neither  cash  nor  credit  the  transaction  was 
not  very  hopeful,  and  Byrne  cut  it  short. 

"  G'long  out  o'  this,  Corvey.  Haven't  ye  nothing 
betther  to  do  nor  try  an'  bum  whiskey  ?  " 

Corvey  explained  that  he  would  be  incapable  of  such 
conduct,  and  that  he  had  only  dropped  in  to  report  to 
Mr.  Whitehead  the  news  of  Dick  Morley's  murder. 

"  Ay,  it's  a  fine  reporter  ye'd  make.  I  must  ax  Mr. 
4 


50  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Field  to  put  ye  on  the  staff  of  the  Indtpindint"  said  Mr. 
Byrne,  with  fine  irony.  Then,  as  Corvey  slunk  out,  he 
turned  to  Whitehead. 

"  YeVe  plinty  of  stock  in,  Charley  ?  " 

{l  Plinty,"  answered  the  bartender. 

"  There'll  be  a  power  dhrunk  here  the  night.  This 
business  o'  poor  Dick  Morley's  has  raised  the  divil  in  the 
boys." 

"  Well,  we'll  try  and  lay  him  if  drink'll  do  it,"  re- 
sponded Whitehead  cheerfully,  tucking  up  his  sleeves  and 
preparing  for  the  rush  that  seemed  imminent. 

Mr.  Byrne  stepped  "behind  the  bar  and  assisted  him  in 
arranging  the  glasses  and  bottles  conveniently  at  hand. 
As  a  general  thing  the  Hon.  Pat,  though  sole  proprietor 
of  the  Spread  Eagle,  would  have  scorned  to  interfere ; 
but  this  was  a  special  occasion.  Besides  the  saloon  was 
empty.  All  the  available  population  of  San  Pablo  was 
grouped  around  Colonel  Morley's  house,  or  straggling 
homeward  along  the  ravine  road. 

"  Field's  up  there  yet,"  muttered  Pat.  "  It  seems  to 
me  that  for  a  gintleman  and  a  scholar  he  takes  a  power 
o'  interest  in  a  matter  o'  this  kind." 

"  He's  a  newspaper  man,"  remarked  Whitehead,  "  so 
it's  his  business  in  a  way." 

"  That's  thrue,"  assented  Byrne  ;  "but  it's  inconvanient 
I  can't  see  him  just  now.  There's  a  special  correspondent 
from  the  San  Francisco  Morning  Summons  doin'  the  vine- 
yards down  this  way,  and  whin  he  comes  I  want  him 
looked  afther." 

"  Oh,  Field  '11  attend  to  that  right  enough,"  said  White- 
head.  "  When  do  you  expect  the  chap  from  the  bay  ?  " 

"  I  expect  him  whin  I  see  him,  the  same  as  any  other 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  5  I 

newspaper  man,"  answered  Byrne.  "  You  make  the 
world  o'  him  av  ye  see  him,  Charley,  for  by  reason  o' 
this  sthrike  I  can't  show  him  any  great  shakes  in  the 
vineyard  line,  an'  there's  the  more  cause  for  bein'  tindher 
o'  the  young  man." 

Presently  the  saloon  began  to  fill  up  as  various  groups 
dropped  in,  fresh  from  the  scene  of  the  murder.  The 
Hon.  Pat  was  affable  and  talkative,  and  extended  numer- 
ous invitations  to  partake  of  the  hospitalities  of  the  place, 
and  accepted  or  excused  himself  from  ten  times  as  many. 
Presently  Field  entered,  and  Byrne  drew  him  aside  and 
explained  that  he  desired  him  to  be  on  the  watch  for  the 
San  Francisco  correspondent. 

"  What's  his  name  ?  "  inquired  Field. 

"  I  have  it  here,"  answered  Byrne,  producing  a  large 
bundle  of  letters  from  his  breast  pocket,  and  sorting  one 
out  of  the  mass ;  "here's  the  letter  of  introduction  he  sint 
me.  His  name's  Mr.  James  Ruggles,  an'  he's  comin'  to 
write  up  our  grapes — if  he  was  come  to  help  gather  them 
I  won't  say  but  what  he'd  be  more  welcome — but  sure, 
God's  will  be  done.  I  want  ye  to  take  him  under  yer 
censorship,  Mr.  Field,  an'  show  him  around.  Any 
expinse  ye  can  charge  to  the  office,  an'  av  coorse  I  needn't 
tell  ye  that  everything  here  from  champagne  down  is 
free,  an'  av  ye  don't  see  what  ye  want  ax  fer  it.  D'ye 
mind,  now?" 

"What  time  does  the  gentleman  arrive?"  inquired 
Field,  who  had  taken  rapid  notes  of  the  instructions 
given  him. 

"  He's  comin'  over  from  San  Miguel,  on  horseback, 
likely.  He'll  be  here  some  time  to-night,  so  be  on  the 
lookout  for  him." 


52  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

By  this  time  the  saloon  was  crowded.  It  was  growing 
dark,  and  lamps  were  lighted  and  hung  in  front  of  broad 
reflectors.  The  room  looked  cheerful  and  animated,  and 
contrasted  pleasantly  with  the  gathering  darkness  outside. 
Mr.  Byrne  had  not  been  deceived  in  his  forecast.  San 
Pablo  was  all  astir ;  the  Plaza  was  growing  more  crowded 
every  moment,  and  the  people  passed  through  the  doors 
of  the  Spread  Eagle  in  an  almost  continuous  stream. 

Every  one  seemed  to  be  speaking  at  once,  and  the  talk 
grew  louder  and  wilder  as  bottles  were  opened  and 
glasses  drained.  The  death  of  Dick  Morley  and  the 
fate  of  his  murderer  were  the  sole  topic  of  conversation. 

"  It's  come  to  this,  boys,"  said  Boone,  dogmatically, 
addressing  the  little  group  of  which  he  was  the  center, 
"  either  this  ere  town  has  got  to  be  run  to  suit  murderers, 
and  loafers,  and  bummers,  or  it's  got  to  be  run  so  as 
decent  people  can  live  in  it.  There's  no  two  ways  about 
it." 

"  Jack  Scott  ain't  no  loafer  nor  bummer,"  remarked 
Hank  Dollett. 

"  Who  said  he  was  ?  "  retorted  Boone.  "  I  said  loafers, 
and  bummers,  and  murderers — includin'  all  the  criminal 
classes.  Now,  he's  a  murderer,  I  s'pose.  There  ain't  no 
gettin'  round  that." 

"  No ;  it  looks  pretty  much  as  if  the  judge  had  got  it 
right,"  admitted  Smith,  and  other  voices  murmured 
assent. 

Field,  having  escaped  from  Byrne,  joined  the  group. 

"  It's  just  as  Judge  Boone  says,  boys,"  he  remarked. 
"  What's  the  good  of  having  a  vigilance  committee  if  it 
don't  work  ?  We  were  doin'  first  rate ;  we  ran  Juan 
Estudillo  out  of  town,  we  made  the  dagoes  sing  mighty 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  53 

small,  and  now,  when  the  worst  crime  of  all  is  committed, 
are  we  going  to  weaken  just  because  the  man  who  shot 
Dick  Morley  was  one  of  ourselves  and  a  man  who  ought 
to  have  known  better  ?  No,  I  say." 

Mr.  Field's  words  were  cheered  to  the  echo,  and  Hank, 
reaching  over  to  the  bar,  grasped  a  bottle  of  whiskey 
from  which  he  filled  the  empty  glasses. 

Meanwhile  another  group,  collected  around  Pat  Byrne, 
was  discussing  the  same  question. 

"  It's  printed  in  your  own  paper,  Mr.  Byrne,"  said  a 
tall,  dark-browed  fellow — a  dealer  in  fish,  known  all  over 
San  Antonio  County  as  Every  Day  Pete.  "  Here  it  is," 
and  the  speaker  struck  a  copy  of  the  Independent  so  vio- 
lently as  to  tear  it  before  he  read  : 

"  It  is  with  great  pleasure  that  we  announce  to  our 
readers  the  foundation  of  a  committee  of  safety,  which 
has  undertaken  to  rid  the  town  of  the  ruffians  who  have 
been  holding  a  carnival  of  crime  in  our  midst.  The 
majesty  of  the  law  will  hereafter  be  maintained  in  full 
force.  The  penalty  of  the  next  infraction  of  the  peace  is 
death.  The  robber  or  the  murderer  who  falls  into  the 
hands  of  the  committee  of  safety  will  be  hanged  without 
benefit  of  clergy.  Let  the  evil  doers  beware. " 

Every  Day  Pete  had  a  harsh,  high-pitched  voice,  and 
before  he  had  finished  he  had  an  audience  far  more  con- 
siderable than  his  own  immediate  group.  As  he  con- 
cluded a  ringing  cheer  broke  from  all  parts  of  the 
crowded  room,  interspersed  with  such  words  of  indorse- 
ment as  "  Bully  for  you  !  "  "  That's  the  peach  !  " 
"  Sock  it  to  'em  !  "  and  the  like.  Mr.  Field,  the  author  of 
the  paragraph,  bowed  his  head  and  stood  modestly  con- 
scious of  his  merit. 


54  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Every  Day  Pete  turned  on  Mr.  Byrne. 

"  There  it  is  in  your  own  paper.  Are  you  going  back 
on  it  after  printing  the  committee's  proclamation  your- 
self ? " 

The  Hon.  Pat's  position  was  not  easy.  An  habitual 
trimmer,  he  now  found  himself  confronted  by  a  force 
whose  theory  he  had  approved,  but  whose  practice  all  his 
instincts  condemned.  In  this  position  he  could  be  con- 
sistent in  only  one  direction.  He  could  continue  to 
trim,  and  he  did  so.  "  Me  frinds,"  he  said,  throwing 
himself  into  an  oratorical  pose,  "  a  committee  of  safety  or 
a  vigilance  committee  may  be  a  very  good  thing,  an'  I 
don't  say,  havin'  regard  to  the  sarcumstances  o'  the  case, 
that  we  could  ha'  done  any  better.  Them's  my  sinti- 
mints  that  ye  read  in  the  Indipindent,  and  it's  to  vice  my 
sintiments  to  this  community  that  I  pay  Foxy — I  beg  his 
pardon — Mr.  Chamberlain  Field,  a  gentleman  and  a 
scholar,  twin ty- five  dollars  a  week.  But  ye'll  folly  me  in 
this,  fellow-citizens,  a  vigilance  committee,  the  best  o' 
them,  aint  the  law,  and  anything  outside  the  law  or  along- 
side the  law  is  a  poor  lookout  for  a  man  in  my  position, 
that  owns  the  vineyard,  and  the  newspaper,  and  the  best 
sample  room  in  San  Pablo,  wid  over  wan  fifth  o'  the  tax- 
able property  o'  the  township  to  boot." 

Byrne's  speech  was  received  with  mingled  cheers  and 
laughter.  Corvey,  who  had  come  back  with  the  crowd, 
and  had  contrived  to  pick  up  his  share  where  liquor  was 
so  plenty,  felt  emboldened  to  remark  : 

"  You  own  too  much,  Mr.  Byrne  ;  that's  the  trouble." 

"Maybe  I'd  betther  make  over  the  sample  room  to 
you.  There'd  be  no  fear  o'  the  stock  spoilin'  on  your 
hands  anyway,"  retorted  the  proprietor. 


fUDGE  LYNCH.  55 

This  raised  another  laugh  at  the  expense  of  Corvey, 
but  the  temper  of  the  crowd  did  not  improve. 

"  I  say  lynch  law,  rather  than  no  law,"  shouted  Every 
Day  Pete,  "and  if  the  sheriff  can't  keep  peace  in  this 
part  of  the  county — " 

"  Go  aisy  there,  Pete,"  interrupted  Byrne.  "  It  was 
me  nominated  Sam  Starkweather  for  sheriff,  and  a 
betther,  a  dacenter,  and  honester  man  niver  walked  the 
sile  o'  the  free  and  glorious  State  o'  California." 

There  was  a  general  movement  of  the  crowd  toward 
the  door.  Some  new  impulse  had  seized  on  the  men, 
and  they  were  trooping  out  of  the  saloon  with  Field, 
Boone,  and  the  leading  spirits  at  their  head. 

Pat  exchanged  glances  with  his  bartender.  "Sam's 
beyant  at  the  hotel,"  he  said.  "I  think  he'd  betther 
know  what  kind  o'  temper  the  boys  are  in,"  and  Mr. 
Byrne  passed  out  with  the  last  of  the  throng.  The 
saloon  remained  nearly  empty. 

A  rude  platform  had  been  improvised  outside,  and 
Foxy  Field  was  haranguing  the  mob.  Byrne  did  not 
stop  to  listen  but  forced  his  way  on  toward  the  hotel. 

"Gentlemen,"  shouted  Field,  as  a  dead  silence  fell  on 
the  pushing,  struggling  crowd,  "  the  majesty  of  the  law 
has  been  outraged.  Our  distinguished  fellow-citizen, 
Colonel  Richard  Morley,  has  been  assassinated.  With 
the  enterprise  characteristic  of  a  true  newspaper  man  I 
was  at  the  scene  of  carnage  before  the  shooting  took 
place.  Citizens  of  San  Pablo,  the  red  hand  of  murder 
has  been  unsheathed  in  our  midst.  Murder  has  been 
done,  and  the  murderer  has  got  to  swing  for  it.  There's 
no  appeal  from  Judge  Lynch  except  to  the  Supreme 
Judge  of  all  mankind." 


56  JUDGE  L  YNCH. 

A  hoarse  cheer  from  the  crowd  emphasized  the 
speaker's  words. 

Young  Pat  Byrne,  returning  from  Morley's  plateau, 
stopped  in  wonderment  at  the  scene  i'n  the  Plaza.  Field 
continued  to  speak  with  a  ready  flow  of  words  that  were 
not  without  a  kind  of  rude  eloquence.  Mr.  Byrne 
entered  the  hotel,  stumbling  in  his  haste  against  Hainan 
Jeffries,  who  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"This  is  bad  business,  Mr.  Jeffries,"  said  Byrne. 

"They  will  talk  and  drink  all  night  and  do  nothing," 
said  the  schoolmaster,  and  there  was  a  touch  of  im- 
patience in  his  voice. 

"They'll  get  through  talkin'  an'  get  to  doin'  presently, 
and  then  they'll  do  more  in  a  minute  than  they  can  undo 
in  their  lives,"  answered  Byrne,  passing  on  into  the 
hotel. 

Jeffries  shivered,  and  then,  coming  down  the  steps, 
drew  nearer  to  the  speaker. 

Young  Pat  started  violently  as  a  light  hand  was  laid  on 
his  shoulder  and  a  soft  voice  whispere^  in  his  ear. 

"  Do  you  know  what  they're  going  to  do,  Pat  ? " 

"  How  you  scared  me,  Miss  Lucy,"  said  the  boy. 
"  No,  I  don't  know  what  they're  up  to  and  I  can't  wait. 
The  sheriff  sent  me  to — " 

"  Hasn't  he  gone  to  San  Antonio  ? "  asked  Lucy 
breathlessly. 

"  He  started,  he  and  Mr.  Scott,  but  it  was  so  dark  that 
he  drove  into  the  gully  near  the  church  and  smashed  the 
wagon.  The  horses  bolted  on  for  their  own  stable  and 
are  half  way  to  San  Antonio  by  this  time  most  likely. 
He  sent  me  back  to  ask  my  pop  for  the  loan  of  a  wagon 
to  go  on  with." 


JUDGE  LYNCH  57 

"  Oh,  God !  they  have  not  got  away,  then,"  said  Lucy  in 
an  agonized  whisper. 

"  No ;  they're  waiting  in  the  church  till  they  can  get  a 
team.  I  must  go  and  find  pop,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  Pat,  will  you  do  me  a  favor  ? "  asked  Lucy. 

"  Anything  in  life,  Miss  Lucy,"  replied  the  youngster, 
with  the  ready  chivalry  of  boyhood.  "  What  do  you  want 
me  to  do  ?  " 

"Run  back  and — no,  no — "  Lucy  interrupted  herself, 
and  thought  a  moment.  "  Go  and  find  your  father  and 
tell  him  what  has  happened,  but  do  not  tell  any  one  else 
— don't  breathe  it  to  a  soul  that  any  accident  has  hap- 
pened." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Pat. 

"  Because  I  beg  it  of  you.  Promise  !  You  won't  say  a 
word." 

"  Not  a  word  then,  since  you  don't  want  me  to — but, 
Miss  Lucy — where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  I'm  going  up  to  the  church  to  see  my  father." 

"  But  aren't  you  scared  ?     It's  dreadful  dark — and — " 

"  Please  do  as  I  ask  you.     Won't  you,  Pat  ?  " 

"  All  right,  Miss  Lucy.  You  can  count  on  me  every 
time,"  answered  the  boy,  starting  toward  the  hotel. 

A  wild  cheer  from  the  crowd  hailed  the  fiery  perora- 
tion which  concluded  Field's  speech. 

"  Bring  out  the  bloody  murderer !  "  "  I'll  talk  to  the 
sheriff."  "  Law  and  order  forever." 

Thus  the  crowd  surged  with  wild  yells  toward  the 
hotel.  Haman  Jeffries  stepped  out  of  the  throng  and 
pressed  his  black  sombrero  down  over  his  brows. 

"Now  they  will  act,"  he  muttered  with  a  strange  smile. 


58  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Lucy  drew  back  as  the  advance  guard  of  the  mob 
approached  her.  For  one  breathless  moment  she  listened 
to  the  shouts  and  curses  with  which  the  avengers  of 
blood  heralded  their  advance. 

Then  she  drew  her  cloak  closely  around  her,  and,  light 
as  a  bird,  fled  up  the  sandy  road  that  led  to  the  church. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IT  took  some  time  to  convince  the  mob  that  the  sheriff 
had  really  carried  his  prisoner  out  of  San  Pablo.  The 
hotel  was  thoroughly  searched,  and  it  was  not  until 
Boone  thought  of  examining  the  livery  stable,  and  discov- 
ered that  Mr.  Starkweather's  wagon  was  gone,  that  he 
would  be  persuaded  that  his  prey  had  actually  escaped 
him.  Then  the  active  members  of  the  committee  returned 
to  the  Spread  Eagle  to  drink  more  whiskey  and  to  deliber- 
ate on  the  next  step. 

The  Hon.  Pat  Byrne  had  heard  his  son's  report  of  the 
accident  and  was  sorely  disquieted  thereat.  He  had 
been  relieved  to  learn  of  the  sheriff's  timely  retreat,  but 
this  unfortunate  breakdown  renewed  the  peril. 

Byrne,  though  he  was  slow  of  speech,  was  accustomed 
to  think  quickly  and  to  the  purpose  in  cases  of  emer- 
gency, and  he  at  once  pronounced  impracticable  the 
scheme  of  sending  a  carriage  to  the  sheriff's  rescue.  Any 
action  of  that  kind  would  be  apt  to  awaken  suspicion,  and 
the  best  plan  seemed  to  be  to  wait  until  the  town  grew 
quiet  before  attempting  anything.  So  Mr.  Byrne  sent 
Pat  to  bed  and  joined  the  revellers  in  the  saloon,  where  he 
took  an  early  opportunity  of  putting  the  clock  an  hour 
ahead,  in  hopes  of  deluding  the  excited  villagers  into 
returning  to  their  homes. 

On  the  whole  things  seemed  to  have  quieted  down  a 
little.  A  few  hot  heads  proposed  to  mount  and  pursue 

59 


60  JUDGE  L  YNCH. 

the  prisoner  along  the  San  Antonio  road,  but  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night,  and  the  creature  comforts  of  the  Spread 
Eagle  furnished  solid  arguments  against  such  extreme 
measures. 

Haman  Jeffries,  resisting  all  invitations  to  join  the 
social  groups,  left  San  Pablo  as  soon  as  the  sheriff's 
flight  had  been  ascertained,  and  went  for  a  solitary  walk 
through  the  gloomy  shades  of  the  chapparal.  He  fol- 
lowed the  road  that  lead  to  Morley's  plateau. 

The  day  of  excitement  had  left  Kate  Morley  weak  and 
unstrung.  It  would  be  too  much  to  say  that  she  had  any 
real  grief  for  her  brutalized  husband  ;  but  sudden  death 
is  a  startling  thing  and  murder  is  appalling.  She  was 
keenly  alive  to  Jack  Scott's  danger — the  more  so  as  he 
had  become  embroiled  with  Dick  by  resenting  the  insults 
which  the  latter  had  hurled  at  herself,  and  besides  she 
had  always  felt  an  interest  in  the  young  man.  He  had 
been  accustomed  to  treat  her  with  a  mixture  of  sympathy 
and  deference  which  was  strange  to  the  wife  of  Drunken 
Dick.  So  she  sat  on  the  veranda,  with  an  unacknowl- 
%edged  reluctance  to  keep  a  lonely  vigil  under  the  roof 
that  sheltered  her  husband's  corpse.  She  sat  and  gazed 
down  into  the  darkness,  thinking  her  own  sad  thoughts, 
and  so  Haman  Jeffries  found  her. 

The  widow  was  startled  by  the  approaching  footsteps, 
and  still  more  discomposed  when  the  schoolmaster's  voice 
betrayed  his  identity,  but  he  would  accept  no  repulse 
from  her  manner,  and  came  up  and  joined  her  on  the 
veranda. 

"Mrs.  Morley,"  he  began,  "I've  long  wanted  a  chance 
to  have  a  few  words  with  you.  It's  well  I  waited,  per- 
haps ;  they'll  come  easier  now." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  6 1 

Kate  made  no  reply  and  he  went  on— 

"  You  are  well  rid  of  that  fellow — he  was  a  mill- 
stone round  your  neck.  You  are  better  without  him." 

"That  is  not  a  respectful  way  to  speak  of  the  dead," 
she  remonstrated. 

"The  dead!  What  matter  the  dead  ?  How  are  they 
better  than  we  are  ?  Why  should  they  be  treated  with 
more  consideration  than  the  living  ?  They  all  breathed 
once  till  Fate  struck  them,  and  they  left  the  world  to 
those  for  whom  Fate  has  something  still  in  store." 

Kate  was  not  so  bewildered  by  this  odd  address  as 
many  women  would  have  been.  The  schoolmaster  had 
often  spoken  to  her  in  this  strain,  and  therein  lay  the 
secret  of  at  least  a  portion  of  the  dislike  and  dread  with 
which  she  rega'rded  him.  Her  voice  was  calm  as  she 
answered  : 

"  We  will  not  discuss  my  late  husband,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Jeffries." 

"As  you  wish,"  he  replied.  "  I  had  a  strange  dream  a 
night  or  two  since,  Kate." 

She  drew  a  little  further  away  from  him  with  a  move- 
ment full  of  repulsion.  It  might  have  been  her  unspoken 
protest  against  his  unwarranted  familiarity.  Jeffries  went 
on  without  noticing  it. 

"  I  thought  I  saw  you  at  the  top  of  one  of  those  great 
redwoods.  I  called  to  you,  but  you  were  looking  far  off 
to  sea.  I  climbed  ;  I  wished  to  reach  you ;  I  passed 
branch  after  branch,  and  each  had  the  likeness  of  some 
one  I  knew.  I  spurned  them  all  under  my  feet.  At  last 
I  reached  one  branch — it  was  the  likeness  of  your  hus- 
band— and  as  I  stood  upon  that  and  stretched  out  my 
hands  I  thought  I  could  touch  you." 


62  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"Mr.  Jeffries,"  began  Kate,  indignantly;  but  he  went 
on  in  the  same  even  tone  and  the  woman  resigned  herself 
to  listen. 

"  But  there  was  still  another  bough  intervening,  and  I 
grasped  it  and  sought  to  swing  myself  above  it.  It  with- 
ered, it  bent,  it  twisted  itself  beneath  my  efforts.  I  had 
almost  succeeded  when  you  stepped  down  and  joined  me. 
We  stood  there  together ;  we  met  on  that  branch  and  it 
seemed  strangely  like — " 

Kate  was  interested  in  spite  of  herself.  "Well,"  she 
said  as  he  paused. 

"  It  was  like  Jack  Scott." 

Kate  started  and  would  have  risen  but  he  laid  a  detain- 
ing hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Do  not  go,  Kate,"  he  whispered.  "  Dreams  have  a 
meaning  to  those  who  know  how  to  read  them  right. 
Dreams  are  sent  from  heaven.  They  are  feeble  sparkles 
of  light  by  which  the  clear-eyed  soul  can  guide  itself 
through  the  dusk  of  the  future." 

"  How  did  your  dream  end  ?  "  asked  Kate. 

"In  darkness,"  answered  Jeffries.  "I  fell  and  knew 
no  more.  That  puzzles  me,  but  the  first  part  of  the  dream 
is  as  clear  a  message  as  ever  spirit  gave  to  the  most 
gifted  intelligence.  See  how  it  has  already  fulfilled  itself. 
Your  husband  is  nothing.  He  is  swept  aside.  We  are 
made  for  each  other — my  soul  claims  kindred  with  yours — " 

"  Leave  me  at  once  ! "  cried  Kate,  rising  indignantly. 
"  How  dare  you  address  such  words  to  me  ? " 

"  I  must  speak,"  answered  Jeffries,  calmly.  "  Our 
future  is  fixed  ;  there  is  no  escaping  it.  We  are  advanc- 
ing toward  each  other  by  the  same  road.  Nothing  can 
keep  us  asunder." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  63 

"  Mr.  Jeffries,"  said  Kate,  controlling  her  voice  with  an 
effort,  "I  think  you  must  be  mad,  and  I  am  little  better 
to  have  listened  to  you  so  long." 

Jeffries  laughed  bitterly. 

"  How  lightly  the  world  uses  that  solemn  word,  mad- 
ness. People  apply  it  to  all  that  they  cannot  understand. 
The  gifted  intelligence  that  can  peer  through  the  thin 
veil  that  sunders  us  from  our  destiny  is  in  the  eyes  of 
common  mortals  only  mad.  Do  you  love  me,  Kate  ? "  he 
asked  suddenly. 

"  No,  a  thousand  times  no,"  cried  Kate,  breaking  from 
the  hand  that  he  laid  on  her  arm,  and  going  toward  the 
house.  The  schoolmaster  intercepted  her  before  she 
could  reach  the  door. 

"  A  word,  only  a  word,  Mrs.  Morley,"  he  pleaded.  "  I 
have  been  too  abrupt ;  I  have  not  considered  your  feel- 
ings. Of  course  you  do  not  expect  me  to  condole  with 
you,  as  with  one  who  has  suffered  any  loss,  but  you  have 
passed  through  a  terrible  experience,  and  on  that  I  offer 
you  my  sympathy.  For  what  remains  for  you  to  bear 
you  can  count  on  my  support." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Jeffries,"  answered  Kate  coldly, 
"  but  in  the  future  as  in  the  past  I  can  bear  my  burden 
alone." 

"  Not  alone  when  you  know  I  seek  no  greater  privilege 
than  to  protect  and  comfort  you,"  urged  Jeffries.  "  The 
only  obstacle  that  separated  us  has  vanished — " 

"  Not  the  only  one,"  interrupted  Kate. 

"Jack  Scott  will  perish  by  the  law,  even  if  he  escapes 
the  hands  of  the  mob." 

"I  did  not  refer  to  Mr.  Scott,"  said  Kate  hastily. 
"His  name  has  no  place  in  this  conversation.  The 


64  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

obstacle  is  one  which  neither  time  nor  murder — aye, 
neither  time  nor  murder  can  do  away,"  she  went  on, 
repeating  the  words  as  she  noticed  that  the  schoolmaster 
shrank  as  she  uttered  them — "  neither  time  nor  murder 
can  ever  remove  my  invincible  repugnance  to  you." 

"  Peace,  girl,"  uttered  Jeffries  savagely,  gripping  her 
arm  as  he  spoke.  "  Do  you  think  your  feeble  words  or 
feebler  acts  can  alter  the  course  of  your  destiny,  irrevo- 
cably fixed  for  you,  as  it  was  fixed  for  me,  millions  of 
years  before  either  of  us  saw  the  light  of  this  world  ? " 

"  Let  me  go,  Mr.  Jeffries,"  interrupted  Kate.  "  You 
hurt  my  arm." 

He  went  on  without  heeding  her. 

"  If  not  to-day,  to-morrow.  I  have  waited  so  long  I 
can  afford  to  wait  longer,  and  the  fate  that  has  marked 
us  for  each  other  will  not  swerve  aside  for  your  puny 
resistance." 

"  Fate  or  no  fate,"  answered  she,  speaking  bravely  and 
steadily,  "  my  life  is  in  my  own  hands.  I  would  take  it 
without  a  second's  hesitation  sooner  than  yield  to  you." 

"  Brave  words,  my  lady,"  sneered  Jeffries ;  "  brave 
words !  But  when  the  pistol  is  at  your  head  or  the 
knife  at  your  throat,  death  has  strange  terrors.  I  speak 
who  know,"  he  went  on  with  a  shudder ;  "  but  that 
nerve  fails  us  few  men  would  live  so  long." 

"  Will  you  release  my  arm,  Mr.  Jeffries  ?  You  hurt 
me." 

"  Begone,  then,"  he  said,  pushing  her  from  him.  "  I 
know  the  secret  of  your  stubbornness.  You  love  Jack 
Scott—" 

"  You  paltry  coward  !  "  cried  Kate. 

"  Do  you  think  you   can  blind  me,"  pursued  Jeffries, 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  65 

"  when  yonder  dead,  drunken  fool  had  penetrated  your 
secret  ?  You  love  Jack  Scott,  and  he  is  a  murderer, 
whose  life  is  forfeit  to  the  law." 

"You  lie,"  cried  Kate,  indignantly.  "  He  is  innocent, 
and  no  jury  would  convict  him  on  such  evidence." 

"No  jury  will  be  asked  to  convict  him,"  retorted 
Jeffries.  "  He  will  be  sentenced  by  a  judge  who  does 
not  stand  on  technicalities  and  quibbles  —  Judge 
Lynch." 

Kate  gasped  with  horror.  "  You  do  not  mean — "  she 
faltered,  but  the  schoolmaster  went  pitilessly  on.  "  It 
would  look  like  murder  to  you,  Kate  ;  naturally,  natur- 
ally. But  our  law-abiding  citizens  think  differently — 
When  I  see  you  next  Jack  Scott  will  be  out  of  the  way, 
and  I  will  renew  my  suit  and  hope  for  a  more  favorable 
answer." 

He  paused  for  a  reply,  but  none  came.  Kate  sank  on 
her  knees  and  was  holding  up  her  hands  in  voiceless 
prayer  toward  the  darkened  heavens.  Jeffries  descended 
the  steps,  and  gaining  the  road  took  his  way  toward  the 
village,  muttering  to  himself  as  he  went. 

Just  before  he  reached  the  church  he  stumbled  over 
an  object  which  lay  at  the  roadside.  The  place  was  very 
dark,  but  the  evidence  of  his  touch  convinced  him 
that  it  was  a  broken-down  wagon.  He  passed  his  hand 
over  it  again.  There  was  no  mistake.  It  was  a  large 
but  light  two-horse  vehicle  of  a  sort  that  was  not  very 
common  in  the  county.  Breathlessly  he  felt  in  his 
pocket  for  a  match,  and  struck  it.  His  hand  trembled  so 
that  it  was  with  difficulty  he  shielded  the  feeble  flame 
from  the  faint  breeze,  but  he  succeeded,  and  the  flicker 
of  light  told  him  all  he  wished  to  know.  Sheriff  Stark- 
5 


66  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

weather's  wagon  lay  overturned  on  the  roadside  at  the 
very  edge  of  the  gully. 

The  match  burned  down  to  Jeffries'  fingers  and  died 
out.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  hurried  forward  down 
the  road.  His  mind  grasped  in  a  moment  all  the  con- 
sequences that  might  be  entailed  by  the  accident.  A 
turn  in  the  path  brought  into  view  the  lights  of  San 
Pablo  shining  in  the  plain  below.  And  now  that  he  was 
clear  of  the  chaparral  he  noticed  that  the  moon  had 
risen.  He  dashed  on,  crossed  the  plaza,  and  burst 
breathless  into  the  crowded  bar-room  of  the  Spread 
Eagle. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


As  Lucy  ran  up  the  steep,  sandy  track  toward  the 
church  she  felt  as  if  Jack  Scott's  life  hung  upon  her 
speed.  If  the  angry  gang  below  should  guess  that  her 
father's  journey  had  been  interrupted  she  knew  that  noth- 
ing could  save  him.  Ruder  than  the  lawless  hordes  of 
the  dark  ages,  the  vigilance  committee  would  respect  no 
sanctuary,  but  would  drag  the  victim  from  the  altar  it- 
self. She  had  done  what  she  could  to  prevent  the  news 
of  the  accident  spreading  abroad,  but  chance  might 
reveal  it  at  any  moment.  Even  at  night  the  road  was 
frequented,  and  any  passer-by  might  see  the  wagon  and 
bring  word  to  the  village,  and  the  merest  hint  meant 
destruction  to  her  friend.  On  she  sped,  trembling  as  she 
ran,  and  fearing  each  moment  to  meet  some  messenger 
returning  with  the  death  sentence. 

Meanwhile  her  father  and  Jack,  having  escaped  with- 
out injury  from  the  wreck  of  the  wagon,  sat  and  smoked 
in  the  church  porch. 

"They  were  in  a  very  ugly  temper,"  remarked  the 
sheriff,  "  and  they  were  getting  uglier.  There  was  noth- 
ing for  it  but  to  get  you  out  of  town.  The  breakdown 
was  unlucky,  but  I  don't  suppose  it'll  matter  much.  The 
boys'll  think  you  are  in  the  hotel  still,  and  will  amuse 
themselves  watching  there.  By  and  by  I'll  get  hold  of 
Pat  Byrne's  team  and  snake  you  over  to  San  Antonio  so 
quick  we'll  make  lightning  loll." 

67 


68  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Jack  stepped  out  of  the  porch  and  looked  down  the 
road. 

"  It  seems  quiet  enough  down  there,"  he  said. 

"  Come  back,  come  back,"  exclaimed  the  sheriff,  pull- 
ing him  under  cover,  "  your  life  wouldn't  be  worth  ten 
minutes'  purchase  if  any  one  saw  you.  It's  dark  now, 
but  the  moon' 11  rise  in  half  an  hour  or  so,  and  then  we'll 
have  to  lay  low  and  sing  small  till  it's  late  enough  to 
make  a  start  for  it." 

"  It's  hard  that  I  should  have  to  be  in  hiding  for  such 
a  reason,"  said  Scott  bitterly. 

"  Don't  take  that  to  heart,  my  boy,"  said  the  sheriff 
kindly.  "I  don't  believe  that  you  murdered  any  one, 
and  if  you  have  time  and  a  fair  trial  you'll  clear  yourself 
all  right.  But  circumstances  are  against  you,  and  I 
could  do  nothing  less  than  arrest  you — and  a  mighty 
good  thing  for  you,  too.  San  Antonio's  a  pleasanter 
neighborhood  for  you  than  San  Pablo,  with  the  committee 
of  safety,  and  though  I  can't  say  much  for  our  jail  accom- 
modations, they're  a  sight  healthier  than  the  limb  of  one 
of  those  trees,  even  if  they're  not  quite  so  airy.  It's 
that  and  nothing  else  that  the  boys  are  saving  up  for 
you." 

The  two  men  sat  silent  for  a  space,  and  the  silence 
grew  so  profound  that  Scott  fancied  he  could  hear  the 
beating  of  his  own  heart. 

A  faint  sound  became  audible  from  the  road  below 
the  tread  of  a  light,  quick  foot ;  the  hurried  breathing 
of  some  one  running  at  speed.  Jack  sprang  to  his  feet. 
The  sheriff,  alert  in  a  moment,  pressed  him  down. 

"  'S-sh,  some  one's  coming,"  he  said,  and  sheltering 
himself  behind  the  door  he  peered  out  into  the  darkness 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  69 

The  steps  came  on  through  the  little  gate  in  the  picket 
fence  which  surrounded  the  church-yard.  Mr.  Stark- 
weather could  trace  the  outlines  of  a  figure  on  the  sanded 
path,  and  a  low  voice  which  he  knew  well,  though  now 
altered  and  sharpened  by  anxiety,  called  to  him  by 
name. 

"  Is  the  sheriff  there  ?     Are  you  there,  papa  ? " 

"  Why,  it's  Lucy,"  said  Starkweather,  stepping  out  to 
meet  her.  "  What  brings  you  here,  my  girl  ?  " 

"Oh,  papa,  I  have  run  every  step  of  the  way  from  the 
village.  It  is  terrible  down  there.  All  the  men  are  out 
and  many  of  them  are  masked  and  armed.  They  have 
been  hunting  for  you  and  Mr.  Scott — they  have  searched 
the  hotel." 

"  So  soon,"  said  the  sheriff,  setting  his  teeth  hard. 
"  Do  they  know  we  are  here  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,  but  any  one  may  pass  and  see  the  wagon 
and  then  they  will  suspect." 

"  How  did  you  learn  it,  Lucy  ?  "  asked  her  father. 

"  Young  Byrne  told  me,"  she  answered. 

"  Ay  !  I  sent  him  down  to  see  his  father  about  a  fresh 
team,"  said  Mr.  Starkweather.  "  Has  he  told  any  one 
else,  do  you  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  was  the  first  he  spoke  to,  and  he  promised 
he'd  tell  no  one  but  his  father,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  That  was  well  thought  of."  He  spoke  slowly,  like  a 
man  in  deep  thought. 

"  You  must  escape  at  once,  papa,"  said  Lucy,  impul- 
sively ;  "there's  not  a  moment  to  lose." 

"  Ay,  is  that  so,  my  girl  ?  "  he  answered  deliberately. 
"That'll  bear  thinking  about." 

"  Why,  papa,  what  else  can  you  do  ?  " 


70  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  Fair  and  easy  goes  far  in  a  day,"  said  the  sheriff, 
calmly.  "  If  we  make  a  bolt  for  it,  they've  got  horses, 
and  can  catch  us  up  in  no  time,  and  they  know  the  only 
road  we  can  take  is  the  road  to  San  Antonio.  Whereas, 
if  we  stay  here,  the  church  is  strong  and  will  stand  a  bit 
of  a  siege.  They  won't  get  in  without  trouble,  and  if  I 
have  time  to  talk  to  them,  it'll  go  hard,  but  I'll  persuade 
some  of  them  out  of  their  mad  scheme." 

"  You  know  best,  papa,"  said  Lucy,  "  but  I  had  to 
warn  you." 

"  And  it  was  bravely  done,  my  girl.  Run  home  now 
and  stay  there  till  the  business  is  finished  one  way  or  the 
other." 

Lucy  came  closer  and  kissed  her  father.  He  returned 
the  embrace  and  rested  his  hand  lightly  on  her  head  for 
a  moment. 

"  Run  along  now,  dear,"  he  repeated  ;  but  Lucy  still 
lingered. 

"  How  is  Mr.  Scott  ?  "  she  asked  after  a  moment's  hes- 
itation. 

"  Brave  and  hearty,"  answered  Mr.  Starkweather. 
"  He's  a  good  lad,  Lucy,  and  I  don't  believe  it  was  he 
who  plugged  Dick  Morley." 

"  Oh,  papa  !  as  if  there  was  any  need  to  tell  me  that. 
May  I  see  him  for  a  minute  ? " 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  the  father  decidedly. 

"  Please  let  me  see  him — only  for  a  moment,"  urged 
Lucy. 

"  What  for  ?  "  inquired  the  sheriff. 

"To  tell  him  that  I — that  we  believe  in  him.  To 
encourage  him,  to — to — "  She  broke  down  in  her 
entreaty  and  stood  looking  up  in  her  father's  face. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  >]\ 

"  Child,  I  can  say  all  that  to  him,"  he  replied. 

"  Not  as  I  can  say  it,"  persisted  the  girl. 

"This  is  no  time  to  bother  the  poor  boy,"  objected 
Starkweather. 

"Oh,  papa,  for  a  minute!  Please,  for  one  little  min- 
ute," she  pleaded. 

The  moon  was  slowly  climbing  up  the  eastern  horizon, 
and  a  little  light  was  beginning  to  filter  through  the 
trees. 

The  sheriff  laid  his  hands  on  his  daughter's  shoulders 
and  bending  down,  looked  into  her  eyes.  The  girl  did 
not  flinch,  but  met  her  father's  gaze  bravely,  and  the 
color  that  mantled  in  her  cheeks  passed  unnoticed  in 
the  dusk.  But  Mr.  Starkweather's  instinct  penetrated 
the  secret  of  his  motherless  girl. 

He  threw  his  arm  around  her  and  drew  her  close  to 
him,  speaking  very  kindly,  very  tenderly. 

"And  so,  Lucy,  Jack  Scott  has  been  courting  you, 
eh?" 

The  girl  had  buried  her  face  for  a  moment  in  her 
father's  broad  breast,  but  she  seemed  to  scorn  that  van- 
tage and  looked  fearlessly  up  in  his  eyes  as  she 
answered,  "  No,  papa,  he  has  never  said  anything  to  me ; 
but  I  think — indeed,  I  know  he  loves  me,  although  he  has 
never  spoken.  And  when  I  think  I  may  never  see  him 
again  I  feel  as  though  I  should  die." 

"  There,  there,  my  girl,  dry  your  eyes,"  said  Mr.  Stark- 
weather. "  You  shall  have  a  word  with  him.  Step  into 
the  porch,  for  he  mustn't  show  himself  outside."  Then 
he  called  to  Scott. 

"Jack,  here's  my  little  girl  has  a  word  or  two  to  say  to 
you.  I'm  going  to  take  a  look  down  the  road.  Don't 


72  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

forget  you're  my  prisoner.  I'll  take  your  word  that  you 
stay  where  you  are." 

"You  have  it,  sir,"  answered  Jack  from  within. 

"  All  right,"  answered  the  sheriff.  Then  he  walked 
down  to  the  gate  in  the  picket  fence,  and  Lucy  entered 
the  porch. 

Jack  grasped  her  hand  warmly, 

"  You  have  made  me  very  happy' by  coming  here,  Miss 
Starkweather,"  he  said  ;  "  for  it  shows  me  that  you  do 
not  believe  me  guilty." 

"  How  could  I  believe  such  a  thing  of  you  !  "  exclaimed 
Lucy. 

The  shade  of  indignation  in  her  tone  was  very  pleas- 
ant to  Jack,  and  his  voice  had  an  earnest  ring 
as  he  answered  :  "  I  thank  you  for  your  trust  in  me, 
and  I  pray  Heaven  I  may  never  do  anything  to  forfeit 
it." 

"  I  felt  that  I  must  come  to  you — in  the  hour  of  peril — 
to  say  good-by,"  faltered  Lucy.  "  I  may  never  see  you 
again." 

"  Don't  fear  for  me,"  answered  Jack.  "  The  evidence 
against  me  is  purely  circumstantial,  and  it  will  be  scat- 
tered to  the  winds  when  we  investigate." 

"  What  will  that  avail  if  they  murder  you  to-night  ?  " 
urged  Lucy.  "  It  is  not  the  law  of  the  land  I  fear ;  it  is 
lynch  law." 

"  Nonsense,"  replied  Jack,  with  affected  lightness. 
"  The  boys  know  me.  It  is  not  as  if  some  stranger  were 
in  the  plight.  They  can't  believe  this  of  me ;  and 
besides,  I  am  popular  with  them." 

"  Every  popular  man  has  enemies,"  objected  Lucy. 

"  He  has  more  friends." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  73 

"  At  times  like  these  the  friends  hang  in  the  back- 
ground. It  is  the  enemies  who  press  to  the  front." 

She  spoke  mournfully,  and  Jack  sought  to  raise  her 
spirits  by  his  reply. 

"  You  have  come  to  the  front  to-night.  Must  I  reckon 
you  as  an  enemy  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  what  can  I  do,"  she  wailed  passionately.  "  A 
poor,  weak  girl  !  What  difference  does  it  make  what  I 
do?" 

"All  the  difference  in  the  world  to  me,"  answered 
Jack.  "  Before  you  came  I  was  cast  down,  I  confess  ; 
but  now,  whatever  comes,  you  have  given  me  courage  to 
meet  it  like  a  man." 

"  Hark  !  What  is  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Lucy,  as  a  sound 
of  whispered  words  reached  her  ears  from  outside. 
Holding  Jack's  hand  and  trembling  from  suspense  and 
nervousness,  she  stepped  from  the  shadow  of  the 
porch. 

"  Why,  it's  Mrs.  Morley,"  said  Scott. 

"Talking  to  papa  ?  What  can  she  want?"  whispered 
Lucy,  in  an  agony  of  apprehension. 

Kate  Morley,  on  her  way  to  the  village  to  see  for  her- 
self if  there  was  any  truth  in  Jeffries'  parting  words,  had 
met  the  sheriff  and  was  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  tell 
him  all  she  had  heard.  She  acquainted  him  with  what 
the  schoolmaster  had  said,  and  a  good  deal  reassured  by 
the  cool,  firm  attitude  of  Mr.  Starkweather,  was  about  to 
return  to  her  home,  when  Jack  and  Lucy  stepped  from 
the  porch. 

She  caught  her  breath  as  from  a  sudden  pang  when 
she  saw  them,  and  spoke  with  difficulty  as  she  pointed 
them  out  to  the  sheriff. 


74  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  Ah,  there's  your  daughter,  I  see  ;  come  to  comfort 
the  poor  fellow,  I  suppose." 

The  sheriff  glanced  at  her  sharply,  but  there  was  no 
shade  of  irony  in  her  voice. 

"  She  came  to  see  him  and  say  good-by,"  he  answered, 
"  in  case  things  take  a  bad  turn." 

Kate  turned  on  him  with  sudden  fierceness. 

"  A  bad  turn  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  He's  your  pris- 
oner, and  you  are  responsible  to  God  and  man  for  his 
safe  keeping.  You  don't  intend  to  give  him  up  ?  " 

"  Not  much,"  answered  the  sheriff,  with  grim  decision. 

She  seemed  satisfied  with  the  reply,  and  turning  back 
from  the  gate  climbe'cl  the  hill  toward  her  home  without  a 
backward  glance. 

The  sheriff  looked  after  her.  The  moon  was  now 
above  the  trees,  and  he  could  follow  her  figure  till  it  was 
hidden  by  the  chaparral. 

"There's  the  widow  of  the  murdered  man,"  he  mut- 
tered, "  and  there's  the  man  they  say  killed  him,  and 
she's  moving  heaven  and  earth  to  save  his  life.  Don't 
tell  me  Jack  had  any  hand  in  the  shooting  after  that." 

Then  Mr.  Starkweather  turned  from  the  gate  and 
walked  slowly  up  the  path  toward  the  church  door.  The 
figures  of  Jack  and  Lucy  were  visible  in  the  new  moon- 
light as  they  stood  in  the  porch,  and  as  he  drew  nearer 
he  could  hear  their  words. 

"  If  anything  should  happen  to  you,"  said  the  girl,  who 
stood  with  her  hand  on  Jack's  sleeve,  as  if  loath  to  leave 
him. 

Then  a  great  wave  of  passion  swept  over  the  young 
man  and  forced  him  to  speak  whether  he  would  or 
not. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  75 

"Oh,  Lucy,  I  would  fear  nothing,  I  would  care  for 
nothing,  if  I  thought  you  loved  me  as  I  love  you." 

This  was  his  declaration  and  his  appeal,  and  no  further 
words  were  needed  between  them.  Her  eyes  gave  him 
all  the  reply  he  sought,  and  he  drew  her  toward  him  and 
kissed  her  on  brow,  on  cheek,  on  lips. 

And  so  the  sheriff  found  them  when  he  reached  the 
door.  "  Hallo,  how's  this  ?  "  cried  Starkweather.  "  I 
thought  there  had  been  no  sparking." 

They  did  not  start  at  his  voice,  nor  shrink  apart. 

"  It  is  the  first  word  of  love  I  ever  breathed  to  her," 
said  Jack,  simply. 

"  And  it  may  be  the  last,"  murmured  Lucy,  "  but  oh,  I 
am  glad  you  said  it." 

The  sheriff  looked  perplexed,  but  not  altogether  dis- 
pleased. "  Come,  come,"  cried  he  briskly  ,  "  we've  no 
time  for  nonsense  of  this  kind.  Have  done  both  of  you. 
Go  home,  Lucy,  and  when  this  has  blown  over  and  Jack's 
safe  again,  we  three  can  talk  this  matter  over  quietly." 

"  Good-by,  my  darling ;  God  bless  and  guard  you," 
said  Jack  fervently,  and  Lucy  stepped  down  into  the  path 
and  joined  her  father. 

"  Not  a  foot  further,  Jack  Scott,"  commanded  Stark- 
weather, as  the  young  man  sought  to  follow  her. 
"Inside  with  you.  Remember,  you  are  my  prisoner." 

"  Mr.  Starkweather,"  answered  Jack,  "  I  remember  all 
the  kindness  you  have  shown  me,  and  should  be  making 
an  ill  return  for  it  if  I  got  you  into  trouble.  Don't  have 
a  fuss  with  these  men  on  my  account." 

"  Shut  up,"  said  the  sheriff  brusquely  ,  "  you're  my 
prisoner,  and  I'm  not  going  to  swap  you  off  for  anything 
these  villains  have  to  offer.  Now  then,  in  with  you." 


76  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

With  a  long,  lingering  look  at  Lucy,  Jack  entered  the 
church. 

"  Home  you  go,  Lucy,"  continued  her  father,  "  or  stay. 
If  this  business  has  been  blown  upon  you  may  meet  the 
whole  rabble  coming  up  from  the  village.  Better  go  up 
to  Morley's  house — no  one  will  be  likely  to  go  there,  and 
I  promised  Kate  I  would  ask  you  to  sit  with  her." 

"Just  as  you  wish,  papa,"  replied  the  girl;  but  she 
paused  before  she  had  taken  many  steps.  "  And  Carrie  ? " 
she  asked. 

"  Well,  what  about  her  ?  "  demanded  the  sheriff,  im- 
patiently. 

"I  left  her  all  alone  at  the  hotel,"  answered  Lucy; 
"  she  doesn't  know  I  came  here  and  she'll  be  worried 
about  me." 

"  Can't  help  that,"  said  Starkweather.  "  She'll  have 
sense  enough  to  keep  in  doors,  and  there's  nothing  to 
happen  to  her.  Run  along  now,  my  girl." 

"  Good-by,  papa,"  said  Lucy;  "  now  you'll  be  prudent, 
won't  you ;  you'll  take  care  of  yourself  and — and— 

"  And  Jack  Scott,"  interrupted  her  father.  "  You  bet 
I  will.  Now  don't  fret  about  us.  I've  been  in  worse 
scrapes  than  this  and  I'm  here  to  tell  of  it." 

He  bent  over  and  kissed  his  daughter's  pale  face. 
"Now  do  go,  Lucy,"  he  continued.  "I  can't  have  you 
round  here." 

"  Good-by,  papa,"  repeated  Lucy,  and  her  light  figure 
was  presently  lost  to  view  among  the  chaparral. 

The  sheriff  went  with  her  to  the  gate.  There  he 
paused  and  sent  a  searching  look  down  the  road  toward 
the  village.  He  even  stooped,  and  bringing  his  ear  close 
to  the  ground  listened  intently  for  a  minute  or  more.  No 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  77 

sounds  save  the  rasping  notes  of  the  cicada  and  the  mo- 
notonous croaking  of  the  tree  toads  broke  the  stillness  of 
the  night.  He  rose,  drew  a  brace  of  revolvers  from 
his  pocket,  and  tested  the  locks  to  ascertain  that  they 
worked  freely.  Suddenly,  like  a  shadow  out  of  the  dark- 
ness, a  woman  came  flying  down  from  the  direction  of 
the  plateau.  The  sheriff  thought  at  first  it  was  his 
daughter  returning,  and  accosted  her  sternly. 

"  No,  no,  it  is  I,"  said  Kate  Morley's  voice.  "  I 
brought  you  a  pistol — you  are  armed,  of  course,  but  Mr. 
Scott—" 

"  I  have  weapons  for  both  if  it  comes  to  a  question  of 
fighting  for  our  lives,"  said  Starkweather.  "  It  was  kindly 
thought  of,  Mrs.  Morley,  but  you  had  better  go  home.  I 
sent  Lucy  up  to  stay  with  you." 

"  I  met  her — I  told  her  I  would  not  be  a  moment ;  I 
am  going  back  directly.  Oh,  Mr.  Starkweather,"  she 
went  on  in  a  voice  of  agony,  "  do  you  think  there  is  any 
danger  ?  " 

"  God  knows,"  answered  the  sheriff  shortly,  but  not 
unkindly.  "  Go  home  now.  Lucy  will  be  waiting  for 
you." 

He  entered  the  church,  and  she  heard  the  rattle  of  the 
bar  as  he  fastened  the  door  behind  him. 

Kate  stood  a  moment  where  he  had  left  her.  Then 
she  slowly  sank  on  her  knees,  and  her  lips  moved  in 
prayer.  "  God  help  him,  God  pity  him,"  she  murmured  ; 
"  I  cannot  go  home  yet.  If  they  come  here  I  will  meet 
them,  I  will  plead  with  them.  Surely  it  is  my  voice  which 
should  call  loudest  for  vengeance,  and  if  it  speaks  for 
mercv  they  cannot  choose  but  listen." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  fever  of  excitement  that  had  worked  like  madness 
in  San  Pablo  during  the  earlier  evening  hours  had  died 
out.  The  feather  brains  of  the  village,  to  whom  every 
new  thing  was  a  good  thing,  had  cheered  themselves 
hoarse,  had  drunk  themselves  stupid,  had  consumed  their 
superfluous  energy  in  many  different  ways,  and  had 
finally  retired  to  bed,  prepared  to  take  up  the  matter  on 
the  morrow  where  they  had  left  it  over  night,  and  renew 
their  excesses  by  draughts  of  fiery  liquor  and  no  less  fiery 
oratory.  But  the  sterner  spirits,  like  Boone,  and  Smith, 
and  Dollett,  were  still  afoot.  These  were  the  men  to 
whom  San  Pablo  owed  its  vigilance  committee — men  who 
believed  they  were  acting  for  the  best  good  of  society, 
and  who  were  resolved  to  stamp  out  lawlessness  wherever 
they  could  reach  it.  The  whirlwind  of  the  evening  had 
passed  over  their  heads  and  left  them  cool  and  resolute. 
The  reaction  came  and  found  them  cool  and  resolute  still. 
A  murder  had  been  committed  ;  proof,  far  more  direct 
and  conclusive  than  Judge  Lynch  exacts,  appeared  to 
fasten  the  crime  on  Scott.  To  their  minds  the  sequel 
was  never  in  doubt.  Scott  must  yield  his  life — a  life 
far  more  useful  and  meritorious  than  the  life  he  had 
taken — that  San  Pablo's  dearly  bought  reputation  for  law 
and  order  might  not.  perish  in  his  person. 

When  Haman  Jeffries  entered  the  Spread  Eagle,  breath- 
less from  his  run,  he  found  the  saloon  crowded,  but  far 

78 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  79 

quieter  than  it  had  been  an  hour  or  two  before.  There 
was  little  drinking  ;  there  was  no  dispute  or  discussion 
among  the  various  groups ;  there  was  no  oratorical  effort 
to  inflame  the  passion  of  the  mob.  On  all  sides  there 
was  a  settled  resolve,  grimly  evident  on  the  dark  faces  of 
those  present — a  resolve  that  waited  in  silence  and  bided 
its  time. 

Pat  Byrne  was  probably  the  only  man  of  the  thirty  or 
more  present  who  was  out  of  sympathy  with  the  general 
purpose.  He  had  felt  relieved  when  the  crowd  began  to 
scatter,  and  the  more  turbulent  spirits,  one  by  one,  sought 
their  homes  ;  but  he  soon  realized  that  those  who  were 
left  represented  a  far  more  dangerous  element — the 
element  of  unalterable,  almost  conscientious  resolution. 
The  Hon.  Pat  had  been  a  politician  from  his  boyhood,  but 
he  was  not  a  statesman  nor  a  leader  of  men.  Such  success 
as  he  had  gained  in  the  facile  politics  of  his  district  had 
been  achieved,  not  by  directing  minds  nor  instigating 
motives,  but  by  careful  deference  to  prejudices,  and  by 
steady  swimming  with  the  tide.  Mr.  Byrne,  with  a  ma- 
jority at  his  back,  was  a  potent  force  ;  as  one  of  a  minor- 
ity he  was  a  trimmer  and  truckler  who  never  stayed  in 
such  unwelcome  society  a  moment  longer  than  he  could 
help.  On  this  occasion,  convinced  as  he  was  of  Jack's 
innocence,  and  entertaining  a  real  affection  for  the  young 
man,  he  ventured  to  oppose  the  crowd  with  a  courage 
that  in  a  man  of  his  disposition  was  little  short  of  heroic. 
But  a  few  brief,  stern  words  from  the  leaders  convinced 
him  that  his  efforts  were  useless  and  he  drew  back  into  a 
corner  and  watched  events  with  a  painful  consciousness 
that  for  once  in  his  life  he  had  undertaken  to  champion  a 
losing  cause. 


SO  JUDGE  L  YNCII. 

Field  had  just  entered  the  room  with  the  announcement 
that  the  moon  had  risen  and  that  the  light  was  fairly 
good.  It  had  been  resolved  to  pursue  the  fugitives  on 
horseback  as  far  as  San  Antonio,  if  necessary,  but  the 
arrival  of  Haman  Jeffries  and  the  news  that  he  brought 
showed  the  way  to  prompter  action. 

"  My  God,  they  are  as  good  as  dead  men  already," 
groaned  Pat.  He  was  temperate,  as  a  rule,  but  the  glass 
of  whiskey  he  poured  out  for  himself  at  that  moment  was 
worthy  of  Drunken  Dick  in  his  best  clays.  However, 
Byrne's  hand  trembled  so  that  not  more  than  half  the 
contents  reached  his  lips. 

"  It  will  save  us  a  ride,"  said  Boone  grimly,  as  soon  as 
the  schoolmaster  had  told  his  discovery  and  explained 
where  the  broken  wagon  was  lying.  "  They're  in  one  of 
two  places ;  either  they're  sheltered  in  the  church  or 
they've  gone  on  to  Morley's  house." 

"They're  not  in  Morley's  house,  I'm  sure,"  exclaimed 
Jeffries  quickly. 

"  How  are  you  sure  ?  "  asked  Boone,  sharply. 

The  schoolmaster  had  admitted  more  than  he  had 
intended. 

"  Is  it  likely,"  he  hesitated,  "  that  the  murderer  would 
fly  for  sanctuary  to  the  house  of  his  victim  ? " 

"  Just  as  likely  as  not,"  retorted  Boone  ;  "  anyhow  the 
church  is  nearer;  we'll  try  the  church  first.  Now,  boys," 
he  continued,  turning  to  the  others,  "  we  want  no  hurly 
burly  in  this  ;  the  talking's  all  done.  This  is  business." 

"  Business  it  is,"  assented  Dollett ;  and  there  was  a 
general  pressing  down  of  hats  and  tightening  of  belts, 
and  the  butts  of  revolvers  gleamed  in  the  lamplight  as 
the  men  assured  them  that  their  weapons  lay  ready  for 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  8 1 

use  to  their  hands.  Several  produced  crape  masks,  which 
they  proceeded  to  adjust,  and  the  rest,  following  their  ex- 
ample, extemporized  shades  for  their  faces  from  their 
handkerchiefs  and  neckwear. 

"Where  are  ye  goin',  boys  ?  "  asked  Byrne,  finding  his 
voice  with  an  effort. 

No  one  noticed  him.  The  men  were  trooping  toward 
the  door,  but  in  an  orderly,  deliberate  manner,  in  strong 
contrast  to  the  tumultuous  confusion  that  had  swayed  the 
mob  earlier  in  the  evening.  Evidently  the  thirty-three 
men  who  had  lingered  till  now  were  the  pick  of  the  vigi- 
lantes. 

"  Straight  to  the  church,  I  suppose,"  suggested  Field, 
when  all  were  assembled  outside. 

"  Straight  to  the  church,"  commanded  Boone,  who  had 
assumed  a  leadership  which  none  dared  to  question, 
"  Fall  in,  boys ;  orderly  now  ;  two  and  two." 

He  set  the  example  by  ranging  himself  beside  Smith. 
Field  came  next,  with  Dollett,  and  the  others  dropped 
behind  in  pairs,  with  a  silence  and  readiness  that  spoke 
well  for  the  discipline  of  the  avengers. 

"  March  !  "  cried  Boone,  and  the  sinister  procession 
moved  across  the  Plaza.  Not  a  word  was  spoken.  If 
any  misgiving,  if  any  hesitation  at  the  enterprise  on  which 
he  had  embarked,  was  present  in  the  breast  of  a  man 
there  he  did  not  show  it.  Silent,  grim,  implacable  as 
fate,  they  set  out  on  their  mission  of  vengeance. 

Haman  Jeffries  brought  up  the  rear.  There  were  six- 
teen pairs  of  vigilantes  in  the  ordered  ranks,  and  he  had 
no  companion.  He  followed  the  terrible  engine  he  had 
set  in  motion,  as  though  he  had  no  part  in  it.  But  his 
face,  always  pale,  looked  ghastly  in  the  moonlight,  and 
6 


82  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

his  shadow,  cast  on  the  dusty  square,  was  strongly 
marked  and  individual,  while  that  of  the  closely  com- 
pacted band  was  but  a  dark,  blurred  outline. 

The  saloon  was  entirely  deserted.  Pat  Byrne  stood  in 
the  door  and  watched  the  column  cross  the  Plaza. 

"Ye  may  close  up,  Charley,"  he  said.  "I'm  goin'  to 
folly  them  and  see  it  out.  Holy  St.  Patrick,  but  this  is  a 
terrible  night." 

Under  the  drooping  branches  of  the  live  oaks  and 
mimosas,  up  the  steep,,  sandy  path  on  which  their  steady 
footsteps  fell  with  scarce  a  sound,  beneath  the  deep 
shadows  and  across  the  broad  white  patches  of  moonlight, 
the  band  passed  as  silently  as  spectres.  The  woods  were 
astir  with  life ;  the  whirring  noise  of  the  great  beetles, 
the  strident  chirp  of  the  cicadas,  the  monotonous  boom  of 
the  tree-toads,  filled  the  air.  And  the  Avengers  of  Blood 
moved  on,  winding  like  a  serpent  up  the  narrow 
track. 

The  little  clearing  in  front  of  the  church  was  reached, 
and  the  rude  wooden  structure  gleamed  cold  in  the  moon- 
light. Then  the  head  of  the  procession  halted,  and  the 
stillness  was  broken  by  a  woman's  voice — a  voice  full  of 
anguish  and  wild  in  its  agony,  pleading,  arguing,  wailing, 
threatening,  by  turns. 

Those  who  were  further  behind  heard  the  words  that 
had  checked  their  leaders,  and  the  ranks  were  broken. 
Men  ran  forward  to  see  what  had  happened.  The  clear- 
ing was  quickly  crowded.  Haman  Jeffries  mingled  in 
the  throng,  and  Pat  Byrne  took  heart  of  grace  and 
advanced  with  the  others. 

Judge  Boone  and  Smith,  the  two  leaders,  still  stoo< 
side  by  side,  preserving  their  formation,  and  at  their  fe 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  83 

with  hands  outstretched  and  dishevelled  hair,  knelt  Kate 
Morley. 

Boone  raised  her  from  the  ground.  "  Go  home,  Mrs. 
Morley,"  he  said.  "  We  are  here  for  business,  and  you 
are  in  the  way. 

Jeffries  pushed  to  the  front.  It  seemed  as  if  he  was 
content  to  remain  in  the  background  while  everything 
progressed  smoothly,  but  came  forward  when  any  obstacle 
threatened  to  obstruct  the  enterprise.  He  had  slipped 
on  a  crape  mask  since  leaving  the  town,  and  his  features 
were  hidden. 

"  Go  home,  my  good  woman,  go  home,"  he  said. 
"  This  is  no  place  for  you." 

"  Ah,  Haman  Jeffries,"  cried  Kate,  "  truly  I  find  you 
where  I  would  have  looked  for  you." 

He  turned  away  abruptly,  disconcerted  at  the  recog- 
nition, and  Kate  went  on  speaking  generally  but  occa- 
sionally seeming  to  address  one  or  another,  as  she  fancied 
her  words  had  produced  some  impression. 

"  Gentlemen,  you  will  hear  me.  I  have  no  interest  in 
shielding  the  murderer — my  husband's  murderer !  You 
all  know  me.  I  am  speaking  to  you  face  to  face  and 
openly,  though  it  pleases  you  to  go  masked.  But  why? 
What  black  deed  are  you  bent  on  that  you  are  ashamed 
to  show  honest  faces  even  to  the  darkness  of  the  night  ? " 

"  Justice  !  "  answered  Boone,  sternly,  and  the  word 
was  taken  up  by  the  others  and  rolled  through  -the  mob 
in  a  volume  of  sound,  "  Justice  !  " 

"  And  does  Justice  hide  its  face  and  march  by  night  ?  " 
cried  Kate.  "  Does  justice—" 

"We  are  not  here  to  be  questioned,"  interrupted 
Boone.  "  Go  home,  Kate  Morley." 


84  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

11 1  will  not  go  home,"  responded  Kate,  "  while  I  have 
voice  left  to  protest  against  this  abominable  outrage. 
You  say  Mr.  Scott  murdered  my  husband.  I  do  not 
believe  it.  Give  him  the  right  that  the  meanest  man 
may  claim  in  this  free  land — give  him  a  fair  trial,  and  I 
will  not  say  a  word  in  his  behalf." 

"  He  has  had  a  fair  trial,"  said  Smith. 

Kate  turned  on  the  speaker.  "  Do  you  think  so  ? 
Has  he  been  confronted  with  his  accusers  ?  Has  he 
been  heard  in  his  own  defence  ?  Only  this  morning 
Richard  Morley  was  alive,  and  to-night — " 

"  And  to-night  his  murderer  shall  hang,"  interrupted 
Boone,  sternly.  "Out  of  the  way,  woman.  This  is  a 
matter  with  which  you  have  nothing  to  do." 

He  thrust  her  aside  but  she  continued  to  cling  to  his 
arm.  "  Oh,  do  not  be  so  headstrong,"  she  urged. 
"  Think,  reflect  on  what  you  are  going  to  do  !  A  mistake 
to-night  will  make  you  murderers — worse,  a  thousand 
times  worse,  than  the  real  criminal." 

The  avengers  were  puzzled.  Any  one  else  they  woul< 
have  swept  aside,  but  not  the  widow  of  the  murden 
man  !  To  their  rude  sense  of  justice  it  seemed  as  if  sh< 
had  a  right  to  be  heard  in  a  matter  in  which  she  had 
vital  an  interest.  Field  came  forward. 

"  Lynch  law  is  swift  and  sure,"  he  said. 

"  Terribly  swift,"  answered  Kate,  "  but  why  sure  ?  I; 
a  vigilance  committee  omniscient  and  infallible  ?" 

"Look  a  here,  Mrs.  Morley,"  broke  in  Pete  roughly. 
"  You're  the  last  soul  in  the  town  I'd  ha'  expected  t< 
raise  your  voice  for  the  man  that  has  made  you  a  widow. 
Now,  we've  fooled  with  you  long  enough.  Stan< 
back ! " 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  85 

"Ay,  clear  out;  we  can't  waste  the  whole  night  in 
chin  music,"  shouted  a  voice  from  the  crowd. 

"  Gentlemen,  listen  to  me,"  screamed  Kate ;  but  she 
was  rudely  thrust  aside,  and  her  appeal  was  lost  among 
the  hoarse  voices  of  the  vigilantes. 

Pat  Byrne  came  forward  and  drew  her  away. 

"  Go  home,  Mrs.  Morley,"  he  urged.  "  Ye're  doin'  no 
good  here,  an'  ye'll  only  get  hurt — "  he  quickly  saw  that 
this  argument  was  unavailing,  so  he  went  on  without 
pause,  "ye'll  only  get  them  angrier  an'  do  more  harm 
nor  good." 

This  representation  appeared  to  have  some  weight. 

"  I'll  go,  Mr.  Byrne,  I'll  go — but  you'll  wait  here  and 
save  him,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  I  won't  stir  from  this  spot,  an  I'll  do  all  I  know  for 
him,"  asseverated  Byrne  earnestly. 

He  led  her  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing.  "  Now  ye'll 
be  home  in  five  minutes,  like  a  good  sowl,  won't 
ye?" 

The  excitement  that  had  hitherto  sustained  Kate  was 
bringing  its  reaction. 

"  He  is  innocent,  I  know  he  is  innocent,"  she  said, 
faintly. 

"  That's  me  own  opinion,"  assented  Pat,  "  but  it's  not 
by  prachin'  sarmons  ye  can  turn  wolves  from  their  prey. 
Now  go ! " 

"  You'll  do  your  best,"  persisted  Kate. 

"  I'll  do  all  ye  cud  do  an'  more,"  answered  Byrne. 

She  caught  his  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  You  are  a  good  man,  Mr.  Byrne,  and  mean  well.  Oh, 
pray  be  firm  this  time." 

"  What  did  she  mane  by  that,  I  dunno  ?  "  soliloquized 


86  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Pat,   as    he    watched   her   form    vanishing   through   the 
chaparral.     "  Wimmen  is  mortial  quare,  ennyhow." 

He  shook  his  head  dismally,  looked  with  a  puzzled 
expression  at  his  hand  where  her  lips  had  rested,  and 
then  turned  back  and  joined  the  group  assembled  before 
the  church. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  moment  he  was  disembarrassed  of  Mrs.  Morley, 
Boone  faced  round  on  his  followers,  and  there  was  the 
sharpness  of  a  military  order  in  his  tones  as  he  shouted, 
"  Fall  in  !  " 

The  San  Pablo  committee  of  safety  had  been  working 
together  for  some  time,  and  the  force  showed  the  rudi- 
ments of  drill  and  discipline  as  they  formed  in  line,  and 
in  accordance  with  Boone's  next  order  numbered  from 
right  to  left. 

"  Odd  files,  step  forward  !  "  he  commanded  ;  and  thus, 
m  a  moment,  without  confusion  and  without  the  appear- 
ance of  invidious  selection,  the  band  was  divided  into 
two  equal  portions. 

"  Number  one !  "  he  continued,  addressing  Field,  who 
had  taken  ground  at  the  extreme  right  of  the  line ;  "  we 
settled  all  this  below.  You  know  what  you  have  to 
do!" 

Field  did  not  appear  to  feel  enthusiastic  over  the  post 
assigned  to  him. 

"Yes,  I  know  what  I'm  to  do,"  he  grumbled,  "but  it 
seems  to  me  the  most  dangerous  post." 

"  If  you're  afraid,  man,  go  home,"  said  the  judge 
sharply. 

"  Afraid  !  "  retorted  Field,  "  I  afraid  ?  What  an  idea." 
Then  he  turned  to  the  line.  "  Odd  files  follow  me  ;  this 
way,  boys." 

3? 


88  JUDGE  LYNiCH. 

And  half  the  vigilantes,  with  Field  at  their  heac 
silently  left  the  clearing  and  disappeared  in  the  chapar 
ral. 

At  this  moment  Byrne,  having  induced  Kate  to  leave 
came  back  on  the  ground. 

"  Look  at  here,  boys,"  he  said,  advancing.     "  I  don' 
know  enny  o'  ye  by  rasen  that  ye're  masked,  an'  I  don' 
want  to  know  any  o'  ye  by  rasen  that  trubble  is  sure  to 
come  out  o'  this  night's  work.     Now,  what  I'd  advise  ye 
all  to  do  is  to  go  home  and  go  to  bed,  stopping  in  at  th 
Spread  Eagle  fer  a  snifter  to  keep  out  the  night  air ;  my 
trate,  boys." 

"Mr.  Byrne,"    answered  the  judge,  who  had  listened 
with    some    impatience    to    this  address,   "you  take   my 
advice  and  mind  your  own  business.     This  is  no  child' 
play."_ 

Taking  no  further  notice  of  Mr.  Byrne,  Boone  steppe( 
up  to  the  church  door  and  knocked  on  it  sharply. 

"  You  may  as  well  speak,  Mr.  Starkweather,"  he  said 
"for  we  know  you're  there." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause  and  then  the  light  wooden 
door  swung  back  and  Sam  Starkweather's  burly  form 
appeared  in  the  doorway,  which  it  nearly  rilled. 

"  Well,  boys,"  said  the  sheriff,  "  I  am  here,  and  I'm 
not  here  to  skulk  like  a  coyote,  but  to  do  my  duty.  Here 
I  am,  and  now  what  do  you  want?  " 

There  was  a  momentary  shrinking  back  of  those  who 
had  pressed  nearest  the  door,  but  Boone  stood  his 
ground. 

"  We  want  Jack  Scott,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  you  do  !  "  The  sheriff  drew  from  either  pocke 
a  revolver  which  he  deliberately  cocked.  Then  he  wen 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  89 

on,  "  Now,  boys,  you're  all  friends  of  mine,  and  I'm  a 
friend  of  yours.  You  don't  want  to  hurt  me  and  I'd  be 
sorry  to  hurt  you — but  as  for  Jack  Scott,  he's  my  prisoner, 
and  I  shall  defend  him  with  my  life." 

Sheriff  Starkweather  was  one  of  the  most  popular  men 
in  San  Antonio  County,  and  he  had  a  reputation  for  deter- 
mination and  entire  fearlessness  which  every  one  present 
was  familiar  with,  and  which  some  had  seen  justified. 
All  respected  him  and  many  dreaded  him.  The  result 
was  that  the  mass  of  the  vigilantes  hung  back,  and  no 
one  seemed  to  care  to  try  conclusions  with  the  man 
who  stood  single  handed  between  them  and  their  victim. 

Boone  turned  savagely  on  his  followers. 

"  Up  with  you,  boys,"  he  shouted.  "  Don't  make  a  fool 
of  law  and  order  in  San  Pablo  by  this  night's  work." 

Then  he  faced  the  sheriff  again. 

"You  may  as  well  stand  aside,  Sam  Starkweather. 
We've  nothing  for  you  but  good-will  and  respect,  but 
you  can't  save  that  murderer.  It's  your  duty  to  try  and 
you've  done  your  duty.  Now  stand  back  and  get  out  of 
our  way  for  we're  bound  to  have  him." 

Starkweather,  without  turning,  spoke  back  to  some  one 
inside  the  church. 

"  Scott,  I  have  your  word  that  you  will  not  try  to 
escape  and  that  you  will  come  forward  to  answer  the 
crime  you  are  charged  with  ? " 

"  You  have,"  answered  Jack's  voice  out  of  the  ob- 
scurity. 

"  Then  fight  for  your  life,  my  boy,"  said  Starkweather, 
handing  him  one  of  the  revolvers. 

The  action  was  noticed  by  the  avengers  and  roused 
them  to  a  pitch  of  frenzy. 


90  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"Is  that  what  you  call  law,  Sam  Starkweather?" 
shouted  Smith,  "giving  a  murderer  a  pistol  so  he  may 
murder  again  ? " 

"  All  together,  boys,"  roared  the  judge.  "  We'll  soon 
have  him  out." 

The  vigilantes,  pistols  in  hands  and  with  their  eyes 
shining  through  their  masks,  made  a  rush  forward  but 
halted  within  a  few  steps  of  the  porch  as  the  flashes  of 
two  revolvers  lit  up  the  dusk  of  the  church  and  gave  a 
glimpse  of  the  two  figures  standing  with  levelled  weapons 
in  the  narrow  entrance.  No  one  was  injured.  The 
sheriff  anxious  to  avoid  bloodshed,  had  instructed  Jack 
to  aim  high  and  the  two  bullets  had  passed  over  the 
heads  of  the  avengers.  But  the  attitude  of  deterfnined 
resistance  had  checked  them  for  a  moment,  and  of  that 
moment  Starkweather  took  advantage  to  stake  his 
immense  personal  influence  against  the  unruly  mob  in 
this  desperate  game  for  life. 

"  Not  another  step,  boys,"  he  shouted,  coming  forward 
to  the  very  edge  of  the  porch  and  standing  full  in 
the  moonlight.  "  Not  another  step !  You  know  well 
enough  that  I'm  not  not  likely  to  miss  you  except  on 
purpose,  and  the  next  time  I  touch  the  trigger  I  shoot  to 
kill.  Silence  ! "  he  roared  at  the  full  scope  of  his  pow- 
erful voice,  as  a  threatening  murmur  arose  from  the  rear 
of  the  band.  "  I'm  talking  now.  If  you've  anything  to 
say  when  I  get  through,  I'll  listen  to  you.  Now,  boys, 
you're  decent  people  most  of  you,  and  this  is  a  mad  busi- 
ness and  there'll  be  blood  spilled  before  it's  ended ;  for  I 
tell  you,  you  don't  touch  this  man  except  across  my  body, 
Now  let's  talk  sense.  Have  reason,  and  don't  be  wild 
beasts.  Your  votes  elected  me  sheriff.  You  chose  me  to 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  91 

enforce  the  laws,  and  now  you  ask  me  to  break  them. 
You  ask  me  to  prove  false  to  the  trust  yourselves  im- 
posed on  me.  You  ask  me,  the  sheriff  of  this  county,  to 
surrender  the  custody  of  my  lawful  prisoner.  I  can't  do 
it ;  I  won't  do  it ;  I'll  see  you  all  d d  first." 

The  sheriff's  rough  eloquence  was  not  without  a  mo- 
mentary effect — and  cries  of  "  Bully  for  you,  Sam,"  "  He 
talks  like  a  book,"  "  I  tell  you  he's  sand  clar  through," 
were  heard  among  the  men.  But  the  next  instant  a 
shrill  whistle  sounded  from  behind  the  church,  and  the 
vigilantes  recognized  its  import  and  recollected  their 
purpose. 

"  There  he  is,  boys,"  shouted  the  judge.  "  Have  him 
out." 

And  the  whole  band  flung  itself  on  the  entrance  as  one 
man. 

So  sudden  was  the  movement,  so  quick  was  the  transi- 
tion from  a  reasonable  degree  of  sympathy  to  ferocious 
action,  that  Starkweather  was  taken  by  surprise  for  a 
moment.  Before  he  could  recover  himself  and  press  the 
trigger  on  which  his  finger  rested,  with  a  crash  of  splin- 
tering woodwork  the  rear  door  was  broken  down,  and  the 
second  detachment  of  the  avengers  swept  like  a  whirl- 
wind through  the  little  church.  On  they  came,  still 
carrying  the  posts  and  picket  rails  of  the  fence  which 
they  had  converted  into  battering  rams. 

Starkweather  and  Jack  turned  to  confront  the  new 
clanger,  but  they  were  caught  between  two  fires-  Boone 
and  his  men  charged  from  the  front  as  Field's  gang 
hurled  itself  on  from  the  rear.  There  was  a  brief,  con- 
fused struggle  ;  a  few  curses  were  heard,  like  catches  in 
the  laboring  breath  of  the  combatants  ;  a  few  pistol-shots 


92  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

rang  out,  and  sometimes  a  groan  followed.  Then  the 
refluent  tide  ebbed  out  through  the  doorway  as  Boone 
drew  his  men  back,  and  Field's  party  hustled  the  pris- 
oner out  into  the  open.  It  all  passed  more  quickly  than 
words  can  describe  it,  and  there  was  the  group,  terribly 
suggestive  in  its  picturesqueness.  The  vigilantes  stood 
around  in  various  attitudes,  panting  from  their  recent 
exertions,  as  wild  dogs  stand  and  pant  when  they  have 
run  down  their  prey.  Jack  was  firmly  pinioned  by  the 
grasp  of  a  dozen  rough  hands,  and  gallant  Sheriff  Stark- 
weather lay  where  he  had  fallen,  while  the  thirsty  sand 
lapped,  up  the  blood  that  was  flowing  from  a  wound  in  his 
temple. 

"  Are  you  much  hurt,  Sam — speak  to  me  !  " 

Judge  Boone  took  no  notice  of  the  prisoner,  but  knel 
beside  the  sheriff's  prostrate  form  and  strove  to  stand 
the  bleeding.  More  than  half  the  vigilantes  were  groupe< 
around  him,  shocked,  horrified  at  what  they  had  done 
like  the  boys  who,  in  starting  a  bonfire,  have  burned 
town. 

Not  so  Jeffries.  In  the  momentary  paralysis  of  th< 
other  leaders  he  again  came  to  the  front,  and  his  voice 
sounded  quicker  and  deeper  than  was  its  wont  as  h< 
issued  his  orders.  "  Now  lively,  boys,  lively.  Run  hii 
up!" 

Mechanically  one  of  the  men  uncoiled  the  riata  whicl 
he  carried  and  flung  the  end  over  the  branch  of  a 
oak  which  projected  across  the  path.     Jack  Scott  saw  tl 
dangling  noose  and  shivered  slightly  but  said  nothing 
He  felt  as  if  the  bitterness  of  death  were  passed. 

But  Pat  Byrne,  who  had  been  an  appalled  spectator 
the  rapid  scene,  found  his  tongue  at  last.     His  time  sei 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  93 

ing  nature  was  stirred  to  its  depths  by  the  horrors  he  saw 
and  the  worse  horrors  he  imagined.  For  once  in  his  life 
he  forgot  to  ask  himself  how  many  were  on  his  side  and 
how  many  ranged  against  him.  His  voice  rang  clear  and 
true  as  he  stepped  forward  and  grasped  the  rope. 

"  Are  ye  men ;  what  are  ye  ?  Oh,  stand  back ;  I'm 
afeared  o'  none  o'  ye.  Look  at  poor  Sam  Starkweather 
there !  a  man  worth  a  whole  town  o'  ye,  and  blush  for  this 
night's  work." 

Boone  looked  up  and  there  was  an  entire  change  in  his 
tone  and  manner  as  he  replied  : 

"  I  didn't  want  to  hurt  him.  He  brought  it  on  him- 
self !  " 

"  He  done  his  duty,"  cried  Byrne  indignantly  ;  "  an  if 
there's  another  man  here  can  say  as  much  I'd  like  to  see 
him." 

"  Take  him  down  to  the  hotel,  boys,  and  call  the  doc- 
tor. We've  got  no  grudge  against  Sam  anyway,"  said  the 
judge. 

"No,  that's  true  enough,"  muttered  Pete,  and  the 
Sheriff's  inanimate  body  was  raised  very  tenderly  and 
borne  by  four  men,  with  elaborate  precaution  against  jar 
or  shake,  down  the  road  to  the  village. 

"  I  wonder  if  he's  much  hurt,"  muttered  more  than  one 
voice  anxiously. 

"  Small  thanks  to  you  and  your  bloody  murdering  gang, 
if  he's  not,"  remarked  Pat,  roughly. 

"  Well,  if  he  hadn't  pulled  a  pistol,"  grumbled  Smith, 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who,  knowing  himself  in  fault,  yet 
makes  a  desperate  attempt  to  shift  the  blame.  "  Look  at 
poor  Hank's  hand,  will  you  ? " 

He  pointed  lo  Dollett,  who  was  engaged  in  tying  up 


94  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

three  of  his  fingers  which  had  been  shattered  by  a  bullet. 
But  Hank  objected  to  sympathy,  and  did  not  show  any 
desire  to  be  a  party  to  Smith's  excuses. 

"  Rot  my  hand,"  he  growled  ;  "  I'd  rather  have  had  my 
whole  arm  blown  off  than  any  harm  should  have  hap- 
pened to  Sam  Starkweather." 

And  the  feeling  expressed  by  Hank  Dollett  seemed  to 
be  prevalent  among  the  vigilantes.  They  spoke  in  low 
tones  and  moved  about  with  a  cowed  air;  and  though 
several  men  still  kept  a  hold  on  the  prisoner,  the  mob 
seemed  to  lack  spirit  and  leadership. 

Many  eyes  were  turned  on  Judge  Boone,  but  he  had 
seated  himself  in  the  porch  and  remained  silent,  resting 
his  head  on  his  hand.  Evidently  he  had  taken  the  acci- 
dent to  the  sheriff  deeply  to  heart. 

Pat  Byrne  felt  that  he  was  no  longer  single-handed. 
Adroit  old  trimmer  that  he  was,  he  sniffed  the  changing 
tendencies  of  men's  minds  as  old  sailors  sniff  the 
changes  in  the  atmosphere  that  betoken  storm  or  calm. 

"  Now  tell  me,  boys,"  he  said ;  "  is  this  going  any 
further  ?  Haven't  ye  done  mischief  enough  for  wan 
night  ? " 

There  was  an  evident  wavering  among  the  avengers, 
and  Pat  proceeded,  hooking  his  arm  in  that  of  Smith, 
and  endeavoring  to  drag  him  down  to  the  road.  "  Come 
along  wid  me,  Smith,  an'  let  us  see  how  poor  Sam  is,  an' 
i£  they  got  him  home  safe." 

It  looked  for  a  moment  as  if  Byrne  would  prevail. 
There  was  a  shamefaced,  downcast  look  about  the  men, 
very  different  from  the  arrogant  confidence  with  which 
they  had  embarked  on  the  adventure.  Their  leaders, 
too,  seemed  on  the  poiiit  of  deserting  them,  and  a  very 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  95 

slight  impulse  would  at  this  moment  have  turned  them 
from  their  purpose. 

But  Pat  Byrne's  well-meant  efforts  were  not  destined  to 
succeed.  Once  more  Haman  Jeffries  stepped  forward 
and  stemmed  the  current  that  was  slowly  setting  in  favor 
of  the  prisoner.  The  schoolmaster  had  kept  back  as 
long  as  others  acted,  but  it  was  plain  that  he  would  not 
surfer  the  mob,  for  lack  of  a  leader,  to  thwart  its  own 
purpose. 

"  And  are  you  going  to  let  this  red-handed  murderer 
escape  after  all  ?  "  he  demanded.  "  This  Scott  is  the 
real  cause  of  the  sheriff's  being  shot,  and  because  he  has 
brought  on  this  second  crime,  are  you  going  to  let  him 
escape  the  consequences  of  the  other  ?  We  have  begun 
the  work  of  clearing  this  town  of  thieves  and  murderers. 
Are  we  to  stop  now  for  the  sake  of  a  few  soft  words  from 
Pat  Byrne,  the  softest  man  in  it  ?  I  don't  know  how  the 
rest  of  you  feel.  I  am  not  to  be  bluffed  so  easily." 

Jack  had  stood  silent  all  this  time,  with  downcast  head, 
seemingly  taking  no  notice  of  what  passed  around  him. 
Since  he  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  mob  he  had  felt 
as  a  man  may  be  supposed  to  feel  when  grasped  by  the 
fangs  of  the  tiger — when  crushed  by  the  wheels  of  the 
locomotive.  He  was  at  the  mercy  of  an  irresponsible 
power: — not  personally  antagonistic  to  himself,  but 
resolved  on  his  death,  and  by  reason  of  its  impersonality 
the  more  impossible  to  resist,  the  more  hopeless  to  reason 
with. 

Jeffries'  speech  roused  him.  Here  was  individual  mal- 
ice— here  was  an  adversary — with  every  advantage  of 
weapon  and  position  indeed — but  still  an  adversary  whom 
he  might  encounter  in  a  duel  to  the  death. 


g6  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Jack  raised  his  head  and  the  color  flushed  into  his 
cheeks.  With  a  violent  effort  he  shook  himself  loose 
from  the  hands  that  held  him  and  bounded  across  to  Jef- 
fries. He  was  seized  again  on  the  instant  and  a  rougher 
grasp  on  arms  and  collar  vindicated  the  vigilance  he  had 
eluded.  But  he  had  been  free  for  one  second,  and  in 
that  second  he  had  torn  the  crape  mask  from  the  other's 
forehead  and  revealed  the  pale,  deeply  marked  features  of 
Jeffries. 

"  I  thought  as  much,  Haman  Jeffries,"  cried  Jack 
Scott. 

The  schoolmaster  fell  back  a  step,  and  a  livid  scowl 
passed  across  his  face.  Then  he  caught  the  swinging 
noose  which  still  dangled  from  the  limb  above  his  head, 
and  flung  it  over  the  neck  of  Jack,  now  pinioned  and 
helpless. 

"Talk  enough  and  too  much,"  he  yelled.  "Tail  on  to 
that  rope,  boys." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  motion  and  the  fresh  air  partially  revived  Sheriff 
Starkweather,  but  he  did  not  fully  recover  consciousness 
for  more  than  an  hour.  When  he  came  to  himself  he 
was  in  his  own  bed  in  the  San  Pablo  House.  Dr.  Meares 
was  in  the  room,  and  Carrie  Van  Zandt,  very  pale  and 
frightened,  but  obviously  relieved  by  his  recognition  of 
her,  was  seated  at  the  bedside.  With  the  exception  of  a 
little  weakness  and  a  violent  headache,  Sam  felt  none  the 
worse  for  his  adventure.  The  wound,  so  the  doctor  as- 
sured him,  was  in  itself  trifling.  He  had  been  struck  on 
the  head  by  a  glancing  ball  and  stunned,  but  twenty-four 
hours'  rest  would  make  him  as  well  as  ever. 

Upon  learning  this  the  sheriff  wanted  to  get  up  at  once, 
but  Dr.  Meares  would  not  hear  of  it.  He  insisted  upon 
absolute  quiet,  and  remarked  that,  now  the  patient  was 
conscious  he  should  send  Carrie  away.  Thereupon  the 
sheriff,  having  attempted  to  sit  up,  and  having  found  that 
he  could  scarcely  raise  his  head  from  the  pillow,  and  hav 
ing  further  ascertained  that  he  had  been  unconscious  for 
over  an  hour,  was  compelled  to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity 
and  stay  where  he  was.  Indeed,  there  was  nothing  of 
pressing  importance  to  call  him  forth.  No  man  knew 
better  than  Sam  Starkweather  that  there  was  no  use  in 
hurrying  to  the  assistance  of  a  man  who  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  vigilantes  an  hour  ago. 

"Poor  Jack  won't  miss  me  now,"  he  muttered  with  a 
7  97 


98  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

sigh.     "  He  was  a  good  fellow  and  I  did  what  I  could  for 
him,  but  Lord,  how  my  head  does  ache." 

Perhaps  Starkweather  would  have  felt  more  grief, 
though  it  is  doubtful  if  he  would  have  showed  more  emo- 
tion, had  not  weakness  and  loss  of  blood  lulled  his  senses 
into  a  sort  of  stupor  and  weighed  on  his  eyelids  with  irre- 
sistible drowsiness. 

Before  dropping  off  to  sleep,  however,  he  thought  of 
Lucy,  and  recollecting  that  he  had  sent  her  up  to  Mor- 
ley's  house,  he  began  to  fear  for  the  effects  which  the 
events  of  the  night  might  have  on  his  daughter.  He 
confided  his  doubts  to  Carrie,  and  she  at  once  volun- 
teered to  go  up  to  the  plateau  and  accompany  Lucy 
home,  or,  if  that  were  impossible,  at  least  to  remain  with 
her  till  morning. 

"  Can  you,  Carrie,  do  you  think  ? "  asked  the  sheriff, 
doubtfully. 

"  Why  not  ? "  asked  the  girl,  briskly.     "  It's  the  thing  I 
would  like   best  to   do,  now  that  I've  not   got  to  won 
about  you  any  more." 

"  You're  a  good  little  girl,"  said  Starkweather,  smiling 
feebly.  "  It's  most  a  pity  you  wasn't  born  in  California 
but  you'll  do  as  you  are.  But  aren't  you  scared  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit,"  answered  Miss  Van  Zandt,  resolutel] 
"  I  wouldn't  have  Lucy  left  alone  to-night  for  more  thai 
I  can  tell  you." 

"  The  men  will  all  be  scattered  by  this  time,"  he  went 
on  with  a  sigh,  "  and  I  don't  think  you'll  meet  any  one." 
Suddenly  he  broke  off,  and  resumed  again  with  a  start 
ling  change  of  manner  and  emphasis  : 

"  No,  by  Cripus,  you  mustn't  go.  You  mustn't  stir  oul 
of  this  house  this  night." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  99 

He  had  suddenly  thought  of  the  ghastly  burden 
which,  he  doubted  not,  was  now  hanging  from  one  of 
the  trees  near  the  church.  What  a  spectacle  for  a 
timid  girl  to  encounter  among  the  lonely  woods  at  mid- 
night ! 

"Why  mustn't  I  go,  Mr.  Starkweather?"  inquired 
Carrie,  surprised  at  this  sudden  change  of  purpose. 

"  Because  you  mustn't ;  that's  enough.  Now  mind  me, 
like  a  good  girl.  Lucy  will  do  very  well  till  morning. 
Mrs.  Morley  is  with  her." 

Before  Carrie  could  reply,  Dr.  Meares  interposed  and 
ordered  her  out  of  the  room.  Mr.  Starkweather  must 
sleep,  he  said  ;  he  was  going  to  darken  the  chamber  and 
leave  the  patient  for  the  night. 

So  Carrie  was  driven  away  and  she  immediately  went 
to  her  own  apartment  to  prepare  for  her  excursion.  She 
had  no  idea  of  abandoning  her  intention  of  visiting  Lucy 
on  account  of  Mr.  Starkweather's  unexplained  prohibi- 
tion, which  Miss  Van  Zandt  was  inclined  to  regard  as  a 
whim  of  his  weakened  brain. 

She  put  on  a  hat  and  veil  and  wrapped  her  trim  little 
figure  in  a  shawl.  Carrie  was  a  girl  who  would  have 
tried  to  look  her  best  even  if  she  had  been  dressing  for  a 
promenade  on  a  desert  island  where  she  could  not  reckon 
on  so  much  as  a  crow  for  a  spectator.  She  liked  to  look 
her  best,  not  only  in  the  eyes  of  other  people,  but  also  in 
her  own.  So  she  drew  on  her  gloves  and  even  took  a 
parasol  in  her  hand.  This  last  she  was  conscious  was 
wholly  superfluous,  but  she  carried  it  from  habit.  As 
she  remarked  to  herself,  "  it's  something  to  fiddle  with 
and  keep  the  starlight  off." 

So   equipped    Carrie    stole    quietly  down  through  the 


IOO  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

slumbering  hotel,  and  opening  the  door  stepped  out  on 
the  plaza  into  the  moonlight.  At  the  same  moment  a 
mustang  cantered  round  the  corner,  appearing  with  such 
suddenness  that  Carrie  drew  back  with  a  little  scream. 
The  rider,  a  good-looking  young  fellow  of  thirty-two  or 
thirty-three,  with  dark  curly  hair  and  a  handsome  brown 
beard,  drew  rein  sharply,  uttering  a  word  of  apology. 
Then  he  bent  down  from  the  saddle  and  looked  hard  at 
the  girl,  then  dismounted,  and  pulling  off  the  soft  felt 
hat  with  one  hand,  advanced,  extending  the  other,  with 
an  air  of  mingled  delight  and  perplexity  on  his  pleasant, 
sunburned  face. 

"  Why,  Miss  Van  Zandt,  is  it  possible  ?  "  he  said. 

"It's  Mr.  Ruggles,"  she  cried,  frankly  grasping  the 
outstretched  hand.  "I'm  awfully  glad  to  see  you,  but 
what  on  earth  brings  you  to  San  Pablo  at  this  time  of 
night  ?  " 

"The  public  thirst  for  information  on  viticulture,"  an- 
swered Ruggles.  "  I'm  here  to  write  up  the  vineyards. 
But  may  I  ask  if  Miss  Van  Zandt  has  contracted  the 
habit  of  taking  moonlight  walks  after  midnight  ?  " 

Then  Carrie  told  him  in  a  few  words  the  principal 
events  of  the  day,  so  far  as  she  understood  them.  She 
had  no  conception  of  the  reality  and  extent  of  Jack 
Scott's  danger,  but  she  knew  that  there  had  been  an 
attempt  to  seize  him,  and  that  Sheriff  Starkweather  had 
been  hurt  in  the  struggle.  Where  Jack  was  now  she  had 
no  idea,  but  Ruggles'  brow  contracted  as  he  listened,  and 
he  was  obviously  uneasy. 

"And  you're  going  up  to  see  your  friend,  Miss  Stark- 
weather," he  said  ;  "  very  well,  I'll  go  with  you." 

"Oh,  will  you  ?  "  she  cried  eagerly.     "  I'm  so  glad." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  IOI 

"  I  wouldn't  have  you  go  alone  for  the  world,"  he  an- 
swered. "  When  a  place  like  this  climbs  upon  its  ear,  it's 
apt  to  be  pretty  bad  times  all  round." 

He  roused  a  sleepy  hostler  and  sent  the  horse  to  the 
stable.  Then  he  offered  Miss  Van  Zandt  his  arm. 

"  It  seems  quiet  enough  now,"  he  remarked,  glancing 
round  the  plaza,  which  slept  peacefully  under  the  moon- 
light. "  How  far  is  it  to  this  place  ?  " 

"  Oh,  half  a  mile  or  so,  I  suppose,"  answered  Carrie  ; 
and  the  two  bent  their  steps  toward  the  chaparral, 
which  had  been  the  scene  of  such  exciting  events  during 
the  past  few  hours. 

"  Poor  Dick  Morley  !  "  muttered  Ruggles.  "  He  was  a 
cousin  of  mine,  you  know,  though  I  never  saw  him  but 
once,  and  that  was  only  for  a  few  minutes." 

"  Was  he  your  cousin  ?  "  inquired  Carrie.  "  I  didn't 
know.  How  terribly  you  must  feel." 

"It's  a  very  shocking  thing,"  he  answered;  "but  1 
confess  I  feel  worse  about  Jack  Scott — I  was  very  fond 
of  that  young  fellow." 

"  And  you've  known  him,  too,"  commented  the  girl, 
surprised  at  her  companion's  range  of  acquaintance. 

"  Known  isn't  the  word  ;  we  were  room-mates  in  'Frisco 
two  years  ago,"  he  replied. 

"Well,  I'm  real  glad  you've  come,"  she  said,  heartily. 
"  Certainly  you  are  the  very  last  person  I  should  have 
expected  to  meet  in  a  place  like  this." 

"Am  I  ?  "  he  replied  with  a  smile.  "I  certainly  did 
not  expect  to  meet  you  at  this  hour  of  the  night.  I  knew 
you  were  in  San  Antonio,  of  course — 

"Oh,  you  knew  I  was  in  San  Antonio,"  she  echoed  in 
some  surprise. 


102  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Jimmy  Ruggles  seemed  disconcerted  for  a  moment 
He  had  evidently  said  more  than  he  intended. 

"  Well,  of  course  I  knew  you  were  somewhere  in  this 
part  of  the  world,"  he  hesitated.  "  Don't  you  recollect 
that  I  met  you  on  the  stage  at  Orvietas  ?  " 

"Why,  of  course  you  did,"  answered  Carrie.  "What 
a  ramshackle  old  conveyance  that  Orvietas  stage  is,  isn't 
it?  But  you  Californians  are  the  most  primitive- peo- 
ple." 

"  We  Californians  are  a  very  peculiar  race  in  your 
eyes,  Miss  Van  Zandt,"  remarked  Ruggles,  with  a  smile. 
"  Now,  really  and  truly,  do  you  think  we  differ  very  much 
from  you  New  Yorkers  ?  " 

"  What  a  question,"  retorted  Carrie.  "  Of  course  you 
do.  It  may  be  the  glorious  climate  or  it  may  be  specie 
payments,  but  you  are  certainly  different." 

"  And  do  you  regard  me  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the 
average  Californian  ?  '  he  asked. 

"  There  you  go  again,"  returned  Carrie.  "  You  never 
can  answer  a  question,  but  you  can  always  ask  one." 

"  And  you  haven't  answered,"  he  persisted. 

"I  think,"  said  Carrie,  speaking  with  deliberation, 
"  that  you  are  about  as  typical  a  specimen  of  the  Califor- 
nian as  I  have  met  on  my  travels.  The  city  Californian, 
I  mean,  as  distinct  from  the  rural  variety.  Perhaps,  I 
should  rather  say  the  San  Franciscan." 

Ruggles  laughed.  "  Well,  Miss  Van  Zandt,  it's  a  com- 
pliment to  be  taken  as  a  type,  so  I  won't  dispute  you." 

So  they  beguiled  the  way  and  their  own  graver 
thoughts  with  light  conversation,  but  it  was  evident  that 
Ruggles  was  uneasy,  and  though  he  strove  not  to  alarm 
his  companion  he  could  not  forbear  a  question  or  two 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  1 03 

which  showed  that  his  thoughts  were  busy  with  the  possi 
bilities  of  Jack  Scott's  fate,  and  the  talk  insensibly  came 
round  to  him.  Carrie  seemed  to  have  unaccountably 
missed  the  real  peril  which  threatened  the  young  man, 
and  Ruggles  was  careful  not  to  put  his  own  misgivings 
into  words. 

They  had  been  walking  thus  for  about  an  hour  when 
Ruggles  suddenly  remarked  : 

"You  must  have  strangely  underestimated  the  distance 
to  my  cousin's  house,  Miss  Van  Zandt.  We  have 
travelled  at  least  three  miles  since  we  left  the  village." 

"  Oh,  dear,"  cried  Carrie,  halting  and  gazing  round  her 
in  perplexity.  "  I  must  have  missed  the  way.  I  never 
was  there  but  once,  and  everything  looks  so  different  at 
night.  How  stupid  of  me/' 

"  Look  around  and  see  if  you  can  get  your  bearings," 
said  Ruggles.  "There's  an  odd-looking  hill  in  front  of 
us.  Do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Carrie  helplessly.  "  I  don't  know 
anything ;  oh,  what  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  It's  nothing  to  fret  about,"  remarked  Ruggles,  reassur- 
ingly.    "We've  taken    the   wrong  turning,   that's  all.     I 
noticed  the  place  where  we  branched  off,  about  two  miles, 
below.     We've  nothing  to  do  but  go  back  on  our  tracks." 

"It's  very  provoking,  certainly,"  said  Carrie,  "and  I 
don't  feel  sure  now  if  I've  taken  the  first  step  right." 

"That's  serious,  if  you  like,"  answered  Ruggles 
lightly;  "let  us  take  a  look." 

They  were  on  a  narrow  road  winding  along  the  edge  of 
a  succession  of  foot  hills,  which  bounded  it  to  the  north 
and  east.  These  hills  were  terraced  on  their  lower 
slopes  and  laid  out  in  parallel  lines  of  cultivation.  The 


104  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

chaparral  was  behind  and  the  night  breeze  rustled 
through  the  long  lines  of  carefully  staked  vines. 

"That's  a  vineyard,  anyhow,"  remarked  Ruggles ; 
"and  a  big  one.  Now  some  one  must  live  in  or  near 
that,  and  we'll  rout  them  up  and  find  out  just  where  we 
are." 

A  boy,  or  a  man  of  small  stature,  peeped  round  a  bush 
that  grew  on  the  roadside.  He  saw  the  figures  of  the  two 
wanderers  at  the  same  moment  that  Ruggles  detected 
him  and  he  drew  back  and  seemed  about  to  take  to  his 
heels. 

"  Here,  hold  on  !  no  one's  going  to  hurt  you,"  shouted 
Jimmy.  "  Come  here  a  minute." 

The  figure  hesitated,  and  Ruggles  called  again  in 
reassuring  tones. 

"  We've  lost  our  way.  Come  and  put  us  in  the  road 
that  leads  to  Morley's  house  and  I'll  give  you  a  quarter." 

The  stranger  advanced  toward  them,  though  still  hesi- 
tating. 

"  What's  the  man  afraid  of  ?  "  muttered  Ruggles.  "  He's 
a  greaser  or  a  dago,  and  a  little  one  at  that.  S'accom- 
modi,  amigo,"  he  shouted.  "  Can't  you  show  us  the  way 
to  Morley's?" 

"  Si,  Signor,"  answered  the  Mexican,  coming  forward 
more  alertly.  He  was  a  man  of  about  thirty,  with  rest- 
less black  eyes,  and  a  complexion  of  the  color  of  a  new 
saddle.  He  was  dressed  in  full  native  costume,  with 
gayly  decorated  calzonero,  and  a  brightly-colored  magna 
disposed  not  unpicturesquely  round  his  shoulders.  His 
boots  were  adorned  with  long  brass  spurs,  and  he  pulled 
off  his  flapping  sombrero  with  a  chivalrous  air  when  he 
saw  the  lady. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  1 05 

Ruggles  realized  that  his  offer  of  a  quarter  had  been 
no  inducement. 

"You  wish  to  go  to  Morley's  caballero,"  said  the 
stranger,  speaking  in  very  intelligible  English.  "  Bueno  ; 
we  go,"  and  he  waved  his  hand  with  a  gesture  of  invita- 
tion toward  the  road  along  which  they  had  come. 

"  So  you  see,  Miss  Van  Zanclt,"  said  Ruggles  cheer- 
fully, "  we  have  only  overshot  our  mark." 

"  Senor,"  asked  the  Mexican,  after  they  had  pro- 
ceeded a  few  spaces  in  silence,  "  Ees  it  you  have  read 
any  novedades  of  Senor  Yacscott  ? " 

"  Jack  Scott,  do  you  mean  ?  "  inquired  Ruggles.  "  No, 
we  have  heard  nothing,  but  we  hope  to  learn  something 
at  Morley's/' 

"  I  would  like  to  go,"  said  the  Mexican,  "  but  it  ees 
not  moocha  safe.  Eef  they  catch  me,  they  swear  they 
skin  me — but,  Carrambo,  I  will  go.  Senor  Yacscott 
saved  me  from  the  feathers  and  the  tar  ;  Senor  Yacscott 
ees  my  friend  ;  Senor  Yacscott  ees  in  trouble  ;  I  will 
go." 

And  boldly  stepping  in  advance  of  the  party  the  little 
Mexican  led  Miss  Van  Zanclt  and  Mr.  Ruggles  at  a 
round  pace  down  the  narrow  vineyard  path  to  the  chap- 
arral. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  judge  came  listlessly  forward  as  half  a  dozen 
men,  in  obedience  to  the  order  of  the  schoolmaster, 
grasped  the  rope.  The  noose  was  around  Jack  Scott's 
neck  ;  a  movement,  a  sign  was  all  that  was  needed  to 
gibbet  him  to  the  branch  overhead  ;  but  the  spirit  of 
resistance  which  Haman  Jeffries'  direct  attack  had 
infused  into  the  young  man  had  not  died  out. 

"  Are  you  the  leader  of  this  gang  ?  "  he  asked,  fixing 
Jeffries  with  his  flaming  eyes  as  the  latter  nervously 
endeavored  to  readjust  his  mask. 

"  No,"  said  Boone,  "  I'm  the  leader."  He  spoke  in 
an  indifferent,  perfunctory  way,  as  if  he  had  lost  all 
interest  in  the  proceedings  ;  but  added  with  a  little  more 
animation,  "There's  no  use  your  righting  over  if,  Jack 
Scott.  Your  time  has  come." 

"And  it's  all  too  long  coming,"  muttered  Smith. 
Since  Sheriff  Starkweather  had  fallen,  the  business  had 
become  distasteful  to  almost  every  one  on  the  ground. 
They  persisted  in  it  from  a  blind,  dogged  idea  of 
duty. 

The  men  who  held  the  rope  braced  their  muscles  and 
looked  toward  their  leader  for  the  signal.  He  raised  his 
hand  to  give  it. 

"  Stop,"  shouted  Jack.  "  Won't  you  grant  me  a 
moment  ?  " 

"Not  a  second,"  cried  Jeffries  savagely. 
1 06 


fUDGE  L  YNCH.  1  o/ 

"  Ah,  thin,  black  burnin'  shame  on  ye  ;  whoever  said 
thim  words,"  exclaimed  Pat  Byrne. 

Judge  Boone  did  not  give  the  signal. 

"  Ay,  for  shame  !  "  he  echoed  with  a  glance  in  the 
direction  of  Jeffries.  "  If  the  lad  has  a  mind  to  con- 
fess—" 

"  Ay,  ay,"  interrupted  Field  in  a  tone  of  banter.  "  Let 
him  make  his  last  dying  speech  and  confession." 

Pat  Byrne  shot  a  wrathful  glance  at  the  speaker;  and 
anyone  who  could  have  looked  into  the  worthy  Irish- 
man's mind  at  that  moment  might  have  informed  Foxy 
Field  that  his  incumbency  of  the  editorial  chair  of  the 
Independent  would  not  be  of  long  duration. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  confess,"  said  Jack  boldly,  and 
turning  to  one  of  the  men  who  was  about  to  pinion  his 
arms  with  a  piece  of  rope,  he  added :  "  You  needn't  tie 
me,  I  have  no  thought  of  resistance." 

"There,  he  won't  confess,"  exclaimed  the  school- 
master, "  make  an  end  of  him." 

This  time  Pat  Byrne  detected  the  quarter  whence 
the  malevolent  interruption  came. 

"  Ham  Jeffries,"  he  cried,  "  you're  a  blood-thirsty  sav- 
age." 

Judge  Boone  still  hesitated  to  give  the  fatal  order. 

"  You  can  have  a  moment  for  prayer,  if  you  can  think 
of  one,"  he  said. 

Scott  had  by  this  time  recovered  from  the  first  numb- 
ing effects  of  the  shock  that  had  stricken  him  speechless 
and  well-nigh  willess  when  he  had  first  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  the  mob.  He  was  a  brave  young  fellow,  and 
his  courage  rose  with  the  extremity  of  the  danger.  The 
unaccountable  animosity  of  Jeffries  acted  as  a  stimulus, 


IOS  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

and  though  he  realized  that  his  case  was  desperate,  he 
resolved  to  make  a  final  appeal  and  not  yield  life  till 
every  means  had  been  tried. 

He  braced  himself  firmly  on  his  feet  and,  as  his  arms 
were  still  at  liberty,  he  grasped  the  noose  around  his 
neck  with  one  hand,  as  a  precaution  against  any  sudden 
impulse  that  might  seize  the  men  who  held  the  rope. 

"  I  don't  think  the  time  has  come  for  me  to  say  my 
last  prayer,"  he  began,  "  and  I'll  tell  you  why.  I  know 
most  of  you  and  you  all  know  me.  Yesterday  I  think 
any  of  you  would  have  said  that  I  was  the  last  man  in 
San  Pablo  likely  to  stand  in  the  position  I  occupy  now. 
I  would  have  said  so  myself.  In  spite  of  these  masks 
you  wear,  and  though  you  have  been  led  away  by 
appearances  to  believe  me  guilty,  and  by  passion  to  act 
on  your  belief,  I  know  you  are  too  just,  too  generous,  too 
fairly  and  squarely  American,  to  kill  me  without  giving 
me  a  chance  to  say  a  word  in  my  own  defence." 

"  Ay,  Jack,  ay,  we'll  hear  you,"  shouted  Byrne, 
encouragingly. 

Jeffries  turned  on  him  savagely. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  I  don't  recognize  you  on  this  com- 
mittee, and  I  don't  want  to  fool  away  the  whole  night 
here." 

"  It  is  better  to  fool  away  a  few  hours,"  retorted  Jack, 
"  than  to  fool  away  the  life  of  an  innocent  man.  I 
recognize  you  as  my  enemy,  Haman  Jeffries ;  why,  I  do 
not  know,  for  I  have  never  consciously  wronged  you  in 
word  or  deed,  but  you  are  not  alone  in  this  matter.  I 
appeal  to  my  fellow-townsmen  around  me — my  friends, 
many  of  them,  to  hear  me  say  a  few  words  in  my 
own  behalf,  and  then,  if  they  wish,  they  can  give  the 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  109 

word  and  see  me  die  ;  and  I  trust  I  shall  face  death 
like—" 

"  Like  the  hero  of  San  Pablo,"  interrupted  Byrne 
enthusiastically..  "  The  hero  of  San  Pablo,  that's  what 
yez  used  to  call  him  no  later  nor  a  few  hours  ago.  For 
very  shame's  sake,  boys,  yez  can't  refuse  to  hear  what  he 
has  to  say  for  himself." 

"We  will  hear  him,"  said  Boone,  curtly.  "It  isn't 
often  that  Judge  Lynch  grants  a  stay  of  proceedings,  but 
if  Jack  Scott  has  anything  to  say  for  himself,  I  think, 
boys,  we  can  afford  to  let  him  say  it." 

There  was  a  chorus  of  assent  from  the  band,  unani- 
mous save  for  an  uncompromising  negative  from  the 
schoolmaster.  Jack  addressed  his  next  words  to  him 
directly. 

"Thank  you,  Hainan  Jeffries.  For  the  clever  man  I 
have  always  thought  you,  you  show  your  hand  plainly 
enough.  Now,  gentlemen,  I  have  but  a  few  words  to 
say,  and  I  won't  detain  you  long.  I've  had  no  hand  in 
Dick  Morley's  death.  I'm  as  innocent  of  the  crime  as 
any  of  you." 

"  That 's  thin,"  interrupted  Every  Day  Pete. 

"  Thin  's  no  name  for  it,"  chimed  in  Smith.  "  I've  seen 
many  a  man  hung  and  not  one  of  them  but  was  ready  to 
swear  he  was  as  innocent  as  a  baby." 

"  Do  you  think  I'd  lie  to  you  ?  "  demanded  Jack.  "  I 
don't  expect  that  what  I've  told  you  is  going  to  save  my 
life  and  if  it  wasn't  the  truth  I  shouldn't  want  it  to. 
You've  all  known  me  long  enough  to  be  pretty  sure  I'm 
not  so  fond  of  lying  as  to  tell  one  here  for  nothing. 
What  I  say,  I  say  because  it  is  God's  truth.  I  never 
shot  Dick  Morley." 


I  10  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

The  young  man's  solemn  denial  in  the  very  face  of  the 
grave  that  yawned  for  him,  seemed  to  have  an  effect  on 
some  of  the  men.  Various  little  instances  of  his  candor 
and  straightforward  manliness  were  whispered  from  one 
to  the  other,  and  Hank  Dollett  crystallized  the  opinion 
of  many  present  in  one  sentence. 

"  Jack  Scott's  a  pretty  square  man." 

But  other  minds  were  dwelling  on  the  weight  of  the 
evidence  against  him. 

"  I  never  knowed  Jack  Scott  to  tell  a  lie  in  my  life." 
remarked  Boone,  "  but  he's  told  one  now." 

Scott  overheard  and  contradicted  him  like  a  flash. 

"  I  have  told  the  truth,"  he  cried,  passionately. 
"  What !  Do  you  suppose  I  'm  afraid  of  death  ?  When 
all's  said  and  done,  it's  only  a  wrench  and  it 's  over.  It 
must  come  to  all  of  us  sooner  or  later.  I  shall  not  say 
I  want  to  die  now.  Life  is  just  as  sweet  to  me  as  it  is  to 
any  of  you — and  sweeter  to  me  this  night  than  ever 
it  was  before." 

His  eyes  wandered  to  the  church  porch  and  his  voice 
broke  a  little  as  he  thought  of  Lucy,  but  he  concluded 
steadily  : 

"  I'm  not  lying  in  the  vain  hope  of  saving  my  life,  and 
I'm  not  afraid  of  death." 

"  Thrue  for  ye,"  shouted  Pat.  "  The  man  that  plunged 
through  that  surf  last  spring  and  saved  a  shipwrecked 
crew  can't  be  much  of  a  coward,  can  he,  boys  ?  " 

The  allusion  told.  Men  glanced  from  one  to  the 
other,  and  seemed  to  recognize  the  discrepancy  between 
a  heroic  deed  and  the  cowardly  murder  of  which  Jack 
Scott  was  accused.  But  Boone  was  still  intent  on  the 
evidence — to  his  mind  unanswerable,  and  he  brought 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  1 1  I 

back     the     scattered     thoughts    of    his     band     with   a 
word. 

"  I'm  not  denying  that  Jack  Scott's  a  brave  man,  and 
what  he  done  below  on  the  beach  is  what  few  men  would 
do  ;  but  all  the  same  he's  murdered  a  man." 

Thus  brought  back  to  the  matter  in  hand  the  fickle 
mob  veered  again.  The  scene  on  Morley's  plateau 
recurred  to  the  men's  minds,  and  they  ran  over  the  vari 
ous  points  of  the  incriminating  evidence.  Jack,  contest- 
ing the  ground  inch  by  inch,  grappled  with  each  appar- 
ent proof  as  it  was  presented. 

"The  quarrel  was  nothing  but  a  few  hot  words,"  he 
argued.  "  You  have  all  had  the  like  with  Dick  Morley. 
Poor  fellow,  his  temper  was  none  of  the  easiest.  Does 
a  man  murder  another  because  of  a  hasty  word  ?  As  for 
the  pistol — mine  though  it  be — it  was  levelled  not  by  me 
but  by  some  enemy  of  Dick's/ 

"  He  never  had  any  enemy  but  whiskey,"  interrupted 
Smith. 

"  There  you  are  wrong,"  retorted  Jack,  "  he  had. 
Every  man  here  knows — the  poor  fellow  boasted  of  it  all 
morning — that  there  was  an  attempt  made  upon  Dick 
Morley's  life  last  night.  The  man,  -who  failed  then, 
renewed  his  attempt  to-day,  and  the  second  time  he  suc- 
ceeded. Isn't  that  the  natural  supposition  ?  And  that  is 
the  man  you've  got  to  find,  and  the  man  you  would  be 
trying  to  find  if  you  hadn't  run  off  with  the  notion  that 
because  my  pistol  probably  shot  him — I  say  probably, 
because  even  that  isn't  certain — that  therefore  my  hand 
and  no  other  pulled  the  trigger.  I  think  it  more  likely 
that  the  man  who  tried  to  stab  him  yesterday,  shot  him 
to-day.  You  remember  Dick  Morley's  boast  that  he  had 


1 1 2  JUDGE  L  YNCH. 

a  struggle  with  his  assassin — that  he  beat  him  off — 
wounding  him  in  the  arm,  though  the  night  was  too  dark 
for  recognition.  I  say  that  the  man  who  shot  Dick 
Morley  to-day  bears  Dick  Morley's  mark  on  his  arm. 
There  are  my  arms,  gentlemen — "  Jack  rolled  up  his 
sleeves  as  he  spoke — "  there  are  my  arms  ;  if  you  find  a 
scratch  or  scar  on  them,  I  have  no  more  to  say." 

All  pressed  forward  to  look,  but  fell  back,  feeling  fool- 
ish, as  Jeffries  sneered : 

"  Very  fine.  If  he  didn't  know  his  arms  were  clean, 
do  you  think  he'd  be  ass  enough  to  show  them  ?  " 

Hank  was  impressed  with  Jack's  argument,  however. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Smith  ?  Maybe  we're  making  a 
mistake  after  all  ?  "  he  asked  uneasily. 

"  Mistake  !  How  can  we  ?  "  rejoined  Smith.  "  Likely 
enough  there  were  two  of  them  in  the  job  and  the  other 
one  got  out." 

"  Now  we  come  to  the  pistol,"  resumed  Jack.  "It  was 
mine,  but  it  hadn't  been  in  my  possession  for  two  days. 
Morley  was  cleaning  it  for  me,  and  not  an  hour  before 
his  death  he  told  me  he  had  given  it  to  Mr.  Jeffries  to 
return  to  me.  That  pistol  I  never  received." 

"Dick  Morley  didn't  tell  the  truth,  or  more  likely  you're 
lying  now.  He  never  gave  me  the*pistol." 

This  positive  denial  from  the  schoolmaster  had  much 
weight  with  those  who  heard  it,  for  Jeffries  was  univer- 
sally regarded  as  an  upright,  respectable  man,  although 
somewhat  peculiar  in  his  views.  Jack  did  not  attempt  to 
controvert  the  statement.  "  Be  it  so,"  he  said.  "  Mr. 
Jeffries  denies  having  received  the  pistol.  So  do  I.  I 
swear  to  you,  gentlemen,  I  saw  it  for  the  first  time  to-day 
in  the  hands  of  the  sheriff." 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  I  I  3 

The  reference  to  Starkweather  renewed  all  the  judge's 
perturbation. 

"  It's  a  bad  job  about  Sam,"  he  remarked  to  Byrne. 
I  wonder  how  he  is." 

Pat,  who  had  been  alternately  exalted  and  depressed, 
according  to  the  effect  which  his  young  friend's  argu- 
ments appeared  to  produce,  was  now  gloomy  and  despon- 
dent. 

"  It's  a  bad  night's  work  all  through,"  he  replied.  "  I 
wish  it  was  over." 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  here  is  my  position,"  resumed  Jack. 
"  I  am  helpless  in  your  hands.  You  believe  I  committed 
this  murder — a  dastardly  crime  which  my  very  soul 
abhors." 

He  paused  for  a  token  of  assent,  but  none  came. 

"  I  see  that  no  words  of  mine  can  convince  you,"  he 
went  on,  "and  your  short  and  speedy  vengeance  deprives 
me  of  all  chance  of  acting.  But,  gentlemen,  if  you  hang 
me,  you  do  not  avenge  the  murder.  The  murderer  will 
still  live,  and  it  is  my  belief  that  he  is  in  this  very  town 
now — perhaps  his  coward  face  is  growing  pale  behind  one 
of  those  masks  as  he  listens  to  me.  If  I  had  a  few  days 
I  believe  I  could  lay  my  hands  on  him.  A  few  days — 
why  should  I  ask  so  much — a  few  hours  will  suffice,  for 
whether  I  succeed  or  fail,  the  issue  is  in  the  hands  of 
Heaven.  Gentlemen,  give  me  twenty-four  hours,  and  I 
will  undertake  to  produce  the  real  murderer,  or,  failing 
that,  to  submit  myself  without  a  word  to  the  sentence  your 
justice  shall  pronounce." 

This  proposition  took  every  one  by  surprise. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  exclaimed  the   judge.     "If  we 
let  you  go  for  twenty-four  hours — •" 
8 


114  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  He  will  be  in  'Frisco  before  the  time  is  up,"  inter- 
rupted Jeffries. 

"  I  shall  not  stir  from  San  Pablo,"  asseverated  Jack. 
"  I  shall  use  the  time  to  unmask  the  real  villain.  If  I 
succeed — well ;  if  I  fail,  your  vengeance  will  not  cool  for 
twenty-four  hours'  waiting." 

"You  will  not  try  to  escape — or  secure  assistance?" 
said  the  judge. 

"  So  help  me  God,  I  will  do  neither,"  answered  Jack. 
"  And  what  assistance  could  I  procure  ?  Have  we  rail- 
roads in  San  Antonio  County  to  bring  help  to  me,  even  if 
I  Jmew  where  to  send  f9r  it  ? " 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry,  I  believe  him,"  shouted  Hank, 
slapping  his  thigh  with  a  resounding  blow. 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  Pat,  eagerly,  "  this  is  honest  talk,  or 
I  never  heard  honest  talk  in  all  me  days.  Give  the  boy  a 
chance  for  his  life,  an'  a  chance  to  save  yez  all  from  doin' 
what  ye'll  regrit  to  your  dyin'  day,  if  all  he  says  is  true." 

Boone  seemed  strongly  inclined  to  yield. 

"  If  you  fail  to  find  the  murderer,"  he  said. 

"  If,  before  this  time  to-morrow  night,"  answered  Jack, '. 
solemnly,  "  I  fail  to  find  the  real  criminal,  then  I  pledge 
you  my  word   and  honor  I  will   surrender  myself  to  you 
just  as  I  stand  now." 

"What  do  you  say,  boys  ?  "  inquired  Boone,  turning  to 
the  others. 

Jeffries  stepped  forward  as  if  to  protest,  and  thenj 
recognizing  that  the  tide  was  turning,  bit  his  lips  and 
remained  silent. 

The  romantic  idea  of  such  a  parole  pleased  the  impul- 
sive villagers.  Scarcely  one  of  them  doubted  but  that 
Jack  Scott  would  redeem  the  pledge. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  115 

"He's  a  white  man,"  said  one. 

"  He  never  told  a  lie  in  his  life,"  said  another. 

"  Suppose  he  did  shoot  Drunken  Dick  itself,"  added  a 
third. 

And  then  a  general  cry  went  up  from  the  band.  All 
were  willing  to  make  some  reparation  to  Mr.  Stark- 
weather for  the  injuries — how  grave  they  might  be  no  man 
there  as  yet  knew — which  he  had  sustained  at  their  hands. 

"Yes,  yes,  his  word's  good;  we'll  trust  him." 

"  Well,  Jack  Scott,"  said  Boone,  obviously  relieved  at 
the  issue,  "  the  sense  of  this  committee  is  that  you  be 
given  a  show,  and  if  so  be  that  you  can  find  the  murderer 
and  prove  your  innocence,  I,  for  one,  will  be  glad  of  it. 
But — "  the  speaker  stopped  and  glanced  at  his  watch — 
"it's  now  twenty  minutes  past  eleven — say  half-past.  If 
by  half-past  eleven  to-morrow  night  you  don't  show  up 
either  with  the  murderer  or  without  him,  any  man  that 
finds  you  shall  shoot  you  on  sight,  and  the  Committee  of 
Safety  will  hold  him  blameless." 

"  That  is  understood,"  said  Jack,  flinging  the  rope  from 
him  and  stepping  forth  a  free  man.  "  I  have  been  close 
to  death  to-night,  and  I've  seen  the  worst  of  him.  At 
half-past  eleven  to-morrow  night  at  this  spot  ?  " 

"No,  not  here,"  answered  Boone  quickly.  "We've 
had  trouble  enough  here — and  it  isn't  decent  at  the 
church  door — besides,  poor  Sam.  No  ;  let  it  be  at  Lone 
Pine  Knob,  a  nice,  quiet  place.  There'll  be  no  interrup- 
tion there." 

"So  be  it,"  exclaimed  Jack.  "To-morrow  night  at 
Lone  Pine  Knob." 

He  turned  quickly  to  look  for  Jeffries,  but  Jeffries  had 
already  left  the  ground  and  the  men  were  trooping  back 


1 1 6  JUD  GE  L  YNCH. 

by  twos  and  threes  toward  the  town.  Byrne  was  anxious 
for  Jack  to  accompany  him,  but  the  young  man  de- 
clined. 

"  No,  Mr.  Byrne,"  he  said,  "  I've  a  busy  twenty-four 
hours  before  me,  and  I'd  rather  be  alone  to  think  out  my 
plans." 

"  So  the  Hon.  Pat  returned  to  San  Pablo,  leaving  Jack 
Scott  standing  under  the  oak  which  so  nearly  had  been 
his  gallows-tree. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  hours  passed  anxiously  for  Kate  Morley  and  Lucy 
Starkweather,  seated  together  among  the  varied  stock  of 
Kate's  little  general  store  in  the  house  on  the  plateau. 
They  kept  the  window  open  and  listened  nervously  for 
any  sounds  that  might  reach  them  from  below  to  indicate 
how  things  sped  with  their  friends  in  the  church.  Mr. 
Starkweather's  emphatic  injunction  prevented  either  of 
them  from  venturing  down  the  road  to  reconnoitre,  and 
until  Kate's  return  after  her  unavailing  intercession  with 
the  leaders  of  the  vigilantes  Lucy  had  still  hoped  that 
nothing  would  occur  to  betray  the  interruption  of  her 
father's  flight  from  San  Pablo.  The  news  that  Kate 
brought  forced  her  to  fear  the  worst,  and  thenceforward 
the  two  women  sat  in  the  dimly  lighted  room,  straining 
eyes  and  ears  in  the  direction  of  the  village.  But  they 
neither  saw  nor  heard  anything.  Such  breeze  as  there 
was  blew  down  the  ravine,  and  no  sounds  of  the  conflict 
at  the  church  reached  them. 

Kate  had  some  reliance  on  Mr.  Byrne's  promise,  and 
as  the  time  passed  without  event,  her  confidence  in- 
creased and  Lucy  grew  more  composed.  It  seemed  to 
them  impossible  that  any  collision  between  the  com- 
mittee and  the  sheriff  should  occur  so  close  at  hand  with- 
out their  hearing  it. 

So  the  leaden-footed  moments  passed  and  grew  into 
hours,  which  seemed  so  long  to  the  two  watchers — they 

117 


Il8  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

had  no  time-piece  at  hand — that  they  fancied  the  dawn 
must  be  near.  But  the  plateau  was  still  bathed  in  cold 
white  light,  though  the  lengthening  shadows  of  the  trees 
showed  that  the  moon  was  sinking.  At  length  the  orb  of 
night  was  lost  behind  the  chaparral,  and  the  women  drew 
closer  together  as  they  looked  out  on  the  dim  landscape. 

"  Is  there  no  sign  of  dawn  yet  ?  "  asked  Lucy,  wearily. 

"  None,"  replied  Kate.  "  It  is  dark,  all  dark— like  my 
life,"  she  added  in  lower  tones  and  with  a  shuddering 
sigh. 

Lucy  rose  and  wrapped  a  shawl  round  Mrs.  Morley's 
shoulders. 

"  You  are  cold,  dear,"  she  said,  kindly.  "  It  has  been 
a  long  night  for  you,  but  it  will  soon  be  over." 

Kate  held  her  hand  for  a  moment.  "And  you  are 
sharing  its  weary  watches  with  me,"  she  whispered. 
"  You  are  very  good  to  me." 

"  I  could  not  have  slept  if  I  had  gone  home,"  answered 
Lucy.  "  I  am  glad  to  have  some  one  to  sit  with." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Kate  in  a  constrained  voice,  "  the 
thought  of  Mr.  Scott's  peril  would  have  kept  you  awake. 
Tell  me,  Miss  Starkweather,"  she  asked  suddenly,  "do 
you  love  him  ?  " 

Lucy  withdrew  her  hand  and  looked  at  her  companion 
with  a  pained,  questioning  gaze. 

"  No,  no,"  went  on  Kate  impetuously,  "  don't  be 
angry;  you  need  not  answer  me.  Why  should  I  have 
asked  you  such  a  question  as  that  ?  As  if  it  would  be 
any  business  of  mine.  \  must  be  losing  my  wits,  I 
think." 

"  I  do  not  see  why  I  should  make  any  secret  of  it," 
said  Lucy  after  a  pause.  "  Jack  is  very,  very  dear  to  me." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  I  19 

"  Ah,  no  wonder,"  sighed  Kate.  "  And  he  loves 
you  ?  " 

"  He  told  me  so,"  replied  Lucy,  "  and  I  told  him  all 
that  was  in  my  heart — oh,  my  God,  if  I  should  never  see 
him  again  ! " 

She  broke  down  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands 
while  a  storm  of  sobs  shook  her  slight  figure. 

Very  tenderly  Kate  Morley  drew  Lucy  toward  her  and 
soothed  and  quieted  the  weeping  girl,  pouring  words  of 
hope  into  her  ear,  until  Kate  herself  felt  her  own  con- 
fidence gaining  strength  from  the  food  it  supplied  to 
another.  Presently  Lucy  raised  her  head. 

"  How  weak  and  selfish  I  am,"  she  cried,  "  giving'way 
like  this,  when  I  ought  to  be  cheering  you  and  helping 
you  to  bear  up." 

"  Don't  think  of  me,  Miss  Starkweather,"  replied  Kate. 
"  I'm  used  to  trouble  and  anxiety." 

"  Indeed,  you  have  had  enough  of  both,''  answered 
Lucy  with  ready  sympathy. 

"  Don't  think  of  me,"  repeated  Kate.  "  My  life  is 
ended." 

"Oh,  don't  say  that,"  cried  Lucy.  "It  sounds  so  lost 
and  wicked.  What  do  you  mean  !  " 

"  I  feel  as  a  wounded  animal  must  feel  when  he  crawls 
into  some  obscure  hole  to  die.  This  place  has  grown 
hateful  to  me.  I  never  had  much  happiness  here,  and 
now  a  blight  seems  to  have  fallen  on  it.  But  I  shall  soon 
be  far  away — thank  heaven  for  that !  " 

"  Where  do  you  think  of  going  ?  "  inquired  Lucy. 

"  Back  to  the  States,"  answered  Kate,  "  back  to  my  old 
work.  I  shall  be  less  miserable  there — and  very  likely  it 
will  all  come  to  an  end  soon.  That  is  my  best  hope." 


I2O  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  How  bitterly  you  speak,"  said  Lucy. 

"  Do  I  ?  I  didn't  mean  to  pain  you.  You  must  for- 
give me,"  answered  Kate  with  a  sigh. 

"  You  speak  of  going  back  to  your  old  work  ?  You 
were  a  nurse  in  the  hospitals,  were  you  not  ?  "  inquired 
Lucy. 

"  I  was,"  replied  Kate,  "  and  I  was  wrong  to  leave 
them.  I  was  some  use  there.  But  I  can  go  back.  It 
was,  all  arranged  before  my  husband — before  he  died. 
Come,  let  us  be  more  cheerful.  You  will  have  good 
news  in  the  morning,  I  hope." 

"  Oh,  I  pray  that  I  may,"  uttered  Lucy  fervently. 

"  And  Mr.  Scott's  innocence  will  be  established  and 
you  will  be  married,  you  two,  and  all  will  be  gayety  and 
happiness." 

"  Oh,  don't  talk  like  that,"  whispered  Lucy,  blushing 
and  trembling  between  hope  and  fear. 

Kate  rose  and  opening  the  door  stepped  out  on  the 
veranda. 

"  Not  as  much  as  a  streak  of  gray  in  the  east,"  she 
said  wearily.  "This  night  is  certainly  unnaturally  long." 

"  Perhaps  you  could  sleep  for  an  hour,  Mrs.  Morley,  if 
you  lay  down,"  suggested  Lucy.  "  You  must  be  quite 
Worn  out." 

Kate  did  not  seem  to  hear.  She  was  bending  forward 
over  the  railing  of  the  veranda,  and  sending  a  searching 
glance  down  the  chaparral  path.  She  fancied  she  saw  a 
figure  approaching  through  the  uncertain  glimmer  that 
the  moon  had  left.  Every  sense  on  the  alert,  she 
watched  and  listened.  She  was  not  mistaken.  A  tall, 
erect  form  emerged  from  the  shadow  and  came  straight 
toward  the  house. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  121 

Kate  lingered  a  moment  till  she  could  assure  herself  of 
the  identity  of  the  new-coiner.  She  lingered  yet  a 
moment  longer,  and  a  brief,  fierce  combat  raged  in  her 
bosom,  but  she  gained  the  victory  without  making  any 
outward  sign. 

"  Thank  you,  dear,  I  think  I  will  lie  down  for  a 
little." 

She  passed  on  into  the  inner  room,  closing  the  door 
behind  her.  The  next  moment  a  quick,  light  foot 
sounded  on  the  wooden  steps  of  the  veranda,  and  Jack 
Scott  entered. 

Lucy  rose  and  threw  herself  into  his  arms  with  a  low, 
glad  cry. 

"  Oh,  you  are  here !  You  have  come  back  !  you  are 
safe,  you  are  free,"  she  murmured  in  her  incoherent  joy. 
"  Speak  to  me,  Jack ;  you  are  free  :  you  are  safe — all 
this  horror  is  over  and  done  with." 

He  held  her  to  his  breast  and  kissed  her  tenderly. 

"Yes,  Lucy,  I  am  free,  I  am  safe,"  he  answered,  but 
there  was  a  constraint  in  his  tone  which  her  ear  was 
quick  to  catch. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  Tell  me  everything  !  "  Then 
her  face  grew  white  and  she  shrank  back.  "  Where  is 
my  father  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Don't  be  frightened,  Lucy,  I  have  just  been  down  to 
the  hotel  to  inquire.  He  is  asleep,  and  will  probably  be 
all  right  to-morrow." 

"  He  has  been  hurt  ?  "  she  gasped  breathlessly. 

"Ah,  you  have  not  heard,"  he  answered.  "They 
attacked  the  church,  and  he  was  wounded — but  very 
slightly,  Lucy ;  upon  my  word,  very  slightly.  He  be- 
haved like  a  hero,  and  saved  my  life." 


122 


JUDGE  LYNCH. 


"  Let  me  go  to  him  !  "  said  the  girl.  "  I  must  see  him 
at  once." 

"  Darling,  it  is  impossible,"  replied  Jack.  "  He  is 
asleep,  and  must  not  be  disturbed.  But  you  shall  see 
him  in  the  morning,  and,  indeed,  Lucy,  he  is  in  no 
danger." 

Scott  spoke  with  a  touch  of  bitterness.  At  the  hotel 
he  had  learned  where  Lucy  was  passing  the  night,  and  he 
had  come  straight  to  see  her.  It  was  a  little  disappoint- 
ing to  find  her  so  wrapped  up  in  her  father  that  she  had 
no  anxiety  to  spare  for  the  much  graver  peril  in  which  he 
stood.  But  he  soon  remembered  that  Lucy  knew  nothing 
of  what  had  passed,  and  that,  seeing  him  free  and  unin- 
jured, her  quick  affection  sprang  startled  to  the  news  that 
her  father  was  lying  wounded. 

She  accepted  Scott's  assurance,  however,  and  inquired 
with  lively  interest  into  the  circumstances  of  his  libera- 
tion, and  when  he  explained  that  he  was  still  a  prisoner, 
though  fettered  with  a  looser  chain,  he  had  no  reason  to 
complain  of  coldness  or  lack  of  interest  on  the  part  of 
the  girl  he  loved. 

"To-morrow  night,"  she  whispered,  her  eyes  dilated 
with  horror.  "  Oh,  Jack,  how  can  you  hope  to  find  the 
murderer  ? " 

"  I  dare  not  hope ;  I  can  only  do  my  best,  and  trust  in 
God,"  he  answered. 

"  If  you  had  asked  for  a  week  ?  " 

"  They  would  not  have  given  it,"  he  replied.  "  The 
reprieve  was  narrowly  won  as  it  was.  They  would  not 
have  granted  an  hour  longer  lest  the  sheriff  should  use 
the  time  to  procure  assistance." 

"  May  he  not  do  so  still  ?  "  she  asked. 


JUD  GE  L  YNCfl.  1 2  3 

"How?  Where  would  you  look  for  help  in  this  brief 
time  ? "  answered  Jack,  "  and  half  that  time  will  have 
gone  before  he  will  learn  what  has  passed.  If  it  were 
anywhere  else  but  here — no  telegraph,  no  railway,  and 
the  whole  neighborhood  in  sympathy  with  the  committee 
of  safety — which  I  can  scarcely  wonder  at,  considering 
what  the  country  has  been  in  the  past." 

"Then  Jack,"  said  Lucy  resolutely,  "there  is  only  one 
thing  to  do." 

"  What  ? "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  Take  one  of  Mr.  Byrne's  teams — he  will  let  you  have 
it — and  drive  over  the  mountains  to  Lacuna." 

"Lucy!  "  he  cried,  startled  at  the  daring  proposition. 

"  You  can  take  the  train  there  and  go  on  to  San  Fran- 
cisco," she  pursued. 

"  I  have  plighted  my  solemn  word  to  these  men,"  he 
said  slowly.  "  Would  you  have  me  break  it  ?  " 

"These  men!  What  are  they?"  she  exclaimed  im- 
petuously. "  They  are  assassins,  thirsting  for  your  life. 
They  have  defied  the  law  and  put  it  aside.  They  will 
have  your  blood  as  they  have  nearly  had  my  father's." 

"  They  gave  me  life,  trusting  in  my  honor." 

"  Your  life  is  your  own,"  cried  the  girl. 

Jack  shook  his  head  sadly,  but  Lucy  went  on  un- 
daunted. 

"  Yes,  it  is.  You  are  bound  to  protect  it ;  you  would 
defend  it  by  force  if  you  could.  Since  that  is  impossible 
save  it  by  flight.  Jack,  Jack,  don't  look  so  set  and  reso- 
lute. You  will  live,  you  must  live,  for  my  sake." 

"  Oh,  dearest,  that  would  be  a  sweet  reward,"  he  said, 
drawing  her  close  to  him.  "  You  tempt  me  sorely.  A 
few  hours  and  I  might  be  out  of  their  reach — " 


124  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  interrupted,  impulsively,  springing  to 
her  feet.  Jack  went  on. 

"  To  live  happily  with  you." 

"  Oh,  so  happily,"  she  murmured. 

"  And  every  one  here  would  be  confirmed  in  the  belief 
that  I  am  the  murderer." 

"  What  matter  what  they  think  ?  We  should  be  happy 
and  we  would  forget  all  these  horrors." 

"They  would  call  me  a  coward  and  a  liar,"  he  per- 
sisted. "They  believed  in  me.  I  cannot  forget  that. 
In  a  question  of  life  and  death  there  are  few  men  whose 
word  would  be  taken  by  a  mob,  but  they  took  mine. 
No,  Lucy,  I  cannot  do  it.  I  have  these  few  hours  before 
me,  and  with  Heaven's  help  I  shall  find  the  murderer." 

The  girl  drew  back  bitterly  disappointed. 

"  Then  you  will  stay  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Lucy,  it  is  not  you  who  love  me  who  would  have  me 
go." 

"  She  lifted  her  beautiful  dark  eyes,  all  swimming  with 
tears,  to  his  face. 

"You  break  my  heart,  Jack,"  she  whispered,  "but  I 
love  you  the  better  for  it." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  SHARP  knock  at  the  open  door  caused  the  lovers  to 
start  asunder,  and  in  reply  to  Lucy's  timid  "come  in," 
Juan  Estuclillio  entered,  followed  by  Miss  Van  Zandt  and 
Jimmy  Ruggles. 

Carrie  went  straight  to  her  friend,  while  a  warm  greet- 
ing passed  between  Scott  and  Ruggles.  The  Mexican, 
unnoticed,  remained  near  the  door. 

"What  brings  you  here?"  asked  Jack,  with  a  hearty 
clasp  of  the  hand. 

"  Never  mind  about  me,"  replied  Ruggles.  "  Tell  us 
about  yourself.  From  what  I  have  heard,  I  hardly  hoped 
to  find  you  with  a  whole  skin." 

Jack  rapidly  recounted  the  scenes  that  had  passed  at 
the  church  and  he  had  an  attentive  audience,  for  Kate 
Morley  had  come  out  on  hearing  the  strange  voices  in 
the  store. 

Mr.  Ruggles  had  met  his  cousin's  wife,  and  in  a  few 
words  he  recalled  himself  to  her  recollection  and  offered 
her  his  condolences  on  her  recent  loss.  Then  he  returned 
to  Scott  and  resumed  the  important  discussion  as  to  the 
best  course  for  the  young  man  to  pursue. 

"  You  are  fully  determined  not  to  make  a  bolt  for  it, 
then  ? "  asked  Jimmy. 

Lucy  aswered  for  Jack  with  a  decided  negative,  and 
he  acknowledged  her  spirited  reply  with  a  grateful 
glance. 

I25 


126  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  No,"  he  said  ;  "  I  must  stay  here  and  see  the  matter 
through.  That  point  is  settled  past  question." 

"You  must  find  the  real  murderer,  then?"  cried  Carrie. 
"  Have  you  any  clew  ?  " 

"  Scarcely  any — none  at  all  I  may  say,"  answered  Jack 
despondently. 

"  I  think  I  have,"  said  Kate,  coming  quietly  forward. 

There  was  a  general  exclamation  of  surprise. 

"  You  !     Is  it  possible  ?  "  cried  Jack  eagerly. 

"  I  think  I  know  the  man  who  shot  my  husband,"  con- 
tinued Kate,  in  the  same  even  tone. 

"  Speak,  Mrs.  Morley,  for  mercy's  sake,"  cried  Jack. 

"  It  is  only  a  vague  suspicion,"  she  went  on,  "  but  it  is 
something  to  work  on  while  we  are  all  blindly  groping  in 
the  dark." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Lucy  eagerly. 

"My  husband  told  you  he  gave  your  pistol  to  Jeff- 
ries?" inquired  Kate,  addressing  Scott. 

"  He  told  me  so — yes,"  replied  the  young  man. " 

"  I  believe  he  did  so.  The  pistol  was  in  his  hands  just 
before  Jeffries  came.  I  went  into  the  house  and  I  don't 
remember  seeing  it  again." 

"  Jeffries  denied  it  positively,"  mused  Jack. 

"  He  naturally  would,  if  we  assume  him  to  be  the  mur- 
derer," remarked  Lucy. 

"  Jeffries  ! "  said  Jack.  "  I  can't  believe  it  of  him. 
He  dislikes  me,  I  know,  and  he  has  shown  himself  my 
enemy  to-night ;  but  he  is  a  kind-hearted  man  in  general. 
The  children  idolize  him.  They  say  that  he  believes  in 
ghosts  and  dreams.  He  wouldn't  have  the  nerve  to  com- 
mit a  murder." 

"  I  used    to   know   something   about   a  Jeffries   once 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  I2/ 

whom    that    description   would   fit,"    broke    in    Ruggles. 
"  What  is  his  other  name?" 

"  Hainan,"  replied  Jack. 

"  Haman  Jeffries  !  That's  the  man,"  said  the  journal- 
ist. "  A  dangerous  crank,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  He  is  odd,  I  believe,"  assented  Scott.  "  He  believes 
in  predestination  and  has  a  turn  for  spiritualism." 

"  He  lectured  on  'Fate  and  Free  Will'  in  Frisco  three 
or  four  years  ago,  and  I  had  to  report  the  wild,  whirling 
thing.  He  was  queer  enough,  but  not  actually  insane,  I 
fancied.  And  yet  he  spoke  of  a  man's  right  to  remove 
any  object  from  his  path  to  heaven  and  to  happiness,  and 
I  thought  then  how  like  he  was  to  that  man  in  Mas 
sachusetts  who  offered  up  his  two  children  as  a  sac- 
rifice/' 

Carrie  drew  back  with  a  little  gesture  of  repulsion,  but 
Ruggles  did  not  notice  her. 

"  If  there  was  a  motive,"  he  mused,  "  he  certainly  is 
not  mad  enough  to  act  without  a  motive." 

"  He  had  a  motive,"  said  Kate ;  "  what  men  call  a 
strong  motive." 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  inquired  Lucy. 

"  I  had  rather  not  say  what  it  was,"  answered  the 
widow,  "  but  I  know  it  existed." 

Ruggles  glanced  sharply  at  Kate,  and  seemed  inclined 
to  press  the  question,  but  he  forbore. 

"  Assume  the  motive,"  he  added,  "  and  your  suspicion 
is  strengthened — but  it  is  still  no  more  than  mere  sus- 
picion." 

"There  is  a  way  to  enlarge  this  suspicion  into  cer- 
tainty, or  else  resolve  it  into  nothing,"  Jack  said. 

There  was  a  tone   of  conviction   in   the   young  man's 


128  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

words  which  impressed  every  one,  and  eager  questions 
poured  in  from  all  sides.  Jack  went  on. 

"Apply  to  Jeffries  the  test  Hamlet  applied  to  Claudius. 
He  is  nervous  and  superstitious,  as  we  know,  and  if  he 
were  suddenly  to  be  confronted  with  the  ghost  of  his  vic- 
tim, in  his  terror  he  would  surely  let  fall  something  which 
could  be  used  against  him." 

Lucy  and  Carrie  exchanged  troubled  glances.  They 
could  form  no  idea  of  Scott's  meaning.  Ruggles  looked 
puzzled.  Only  Mrs.  Morley's  quickened  breathing 
showed  that  she  thought  there  was  something  in  the 
idea. 

"  Your  plan  is  worthy  of  Jeffries  himself,"  remarked 
Ruggles.  "  Only  where  do  you  intend  to  get  your 
ghost  ? " 

"  I  see  what  he  means,"  cried  Kate ;  "  his  plan  is  pos- 
sible, quite  possible.  You  know  your  resemblance  to 
poor  Richard.  The  main  difference  is  in  the  way  you 
wear  your  beard.  Jeffries  has  no  idea  you  are  here,  and 
it  is  years  since  he  has  seen  you." 

"  He  has  never  seen  me  at  all  to  my  knowledge," 
answered  the  journalist.  "  I  only  saw  him  when  he  was 
on  the  lecture  platform  and  I  was  in  the  audience.  But 
am  I  to  understand  that  you  want  me  to  sacrifice  my 
beard  and  personate  Cousin  Dick's  ghost  ? " 

But  though  Ruggles  treated  it  thus  lightly  the  plan 
was  seriously  discussed.  His  resemblance  in  figure  and 
feature  to  the  dead  man  was  undeniable — even  Carrie,  now 
that  her  attention  was  called  to  it,  admitted  that  she  was 
surprised  that  she  had  never  noticed  it  before  ;  but  she 
had  seen  little  of  Dick  Morley,  and  the  beard  altered 
the  character  of  Ruggles'  face.  But  Jimmy,  while 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  1 29 

acknowledging  the  possibility  of  the  trick,  failed  to  see 
its  utility. 

"  That  I  could  frighten  Jeffries  or  anybody  else  by 
personating  my  cousin,"  he  argued,  "  I  don't  doubt.  If 
you  look  for  symptoms  of  fright  you  will  find  what  you 
seek.  But  I  do  not  see  how  you  will  be  able  to  dis- 
tinguish mere  brutal  terror  from  an  awakened  con- 
science." 

"  We  can  only  try,"  urged  Jack.  "  In  the  absence  of 
any  other  plan  it  is  worth  a  trial." 

"There  is  more  than  chance  in  the  providential  arrival 
of  the  one  man  who  could  successfully  personate  poor 
Richard,"  remarked  Kate,  who  had  taken  a  favorable 
view  of  the  idea  from  the  first. 

"Very  well,"  replied  Ruggles.  "  I  am  at  your  service  ; 
but  to  play  the  character  I  must  have  some  hints  as  to 
costume  and  so  forth." 

"  Your  present  dress  will  do  very  well,"  answered 
Kate;  "the  general  effect  is  all  we  need  consider. 
Stoop  your  shoulders  a  little." 

"  And.  the  beard,  of  course,  must  come  off,"  added 
Carrie,  with  a  little  nervous  laugh. 

"  So  be  it,"  cried  Ruggles,  assuming  the  tone  of  a 
martyr.  "  By  the  way — where  is  the  apparition  to  walk — 
and  when  ?  " 

"As  soon  as  possible,"  answered  Jack.  "It  will  be 
daylight  presently,  and  to  get  the  effect  we  want  we  must 
see  you  before  the  light  gets  too  strong  and  before  people 
are  about.  As  for  the  place — nowhere  better  than  out- 
side this  very  door,  the  spot  where  the  murder  was  com- 
mitted/' 

"  But  recollect,"  objected  Ruggles,  "  I  am  an  appa- 
9 


130  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

rition  with  limitations.  I  can't  appear  to  any  one  till 
he  appears  to  me.  Am  I  to  hang  around  outside  till 
Jeffries  chances  to  pass  ?  " 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  This  obvious  difficulty 
had  occurred  to  no  one.  After  a  moment's  painful  hesi- 
tation and  an  evident  struggle  with  herself,  Kate  spoke 
again. 

"  I  can  insure  Mr.  Jeffries  coming  here  at  once.  That 
can  be  arranged.  If  you  will  step  inside,  Mr.  Ruggles,  and 
make  your  preparations — I  can  give  you  what  you  re- 
quire." 

She  opened  the  door  leading  into  the  other  room  and 
the  journalist  arose.  As  he  passed  Jack  he  whispered 
significantly, 

"  I  can  guess  the  motive.  I  should  not  wonder  if 
Jeffries  were  the  man."  Then  he  added  aloud:  "  Thanks, 
cousin,  I  have  a  traveller's  dressing  case  in  my  pocket, 
That  will  furnish  me  with  all  I  need." 

He  left  the  room,  closing  the  door  behind  him.  Kate 
seated  herself  at  a  little  writing  table  and  dashed  off  a 
few  rapid  lines.  She  seemed  anxious  to  act  quickly,  so 
that  she  would  have  no  time  for  thought,  and  she  closed 
the  letter  without  reading  it  over. 

"Juan,"  she  said,  "you  will  take  this  to  Mr.  Jeffries 
will  you  not  ?  " 

"  Si,  Senora,"  replied  the  Mexican,  advancing. 

Jack  noticed  him  for  the  first  time,  and  shook  hands 
with  him  as  the  little  ranchero,  overflowing  with  sympathy 
and  affection  for  the  young  man,  placed  himself,  his  life, 
and  his  future  at  the  other's  disposal.  He  would  die  for 
his  friend,  Senor  Yacscott,  he  said. 

"  You    are    not    afraid    of   any   trouble    through  going 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  1 3  i 

to  the  village?"  he  asked.  "They  have  warned  you 
away,  you  know." 

Estudillo  vowed  that  he  feared  nothing  in  the  service  of 
his  friend. 

"Well,  you  will  give  this  note  to  Mr.  Jeffries,''  said 
Kate.  "  Wake  him  up  if  he  is  asleep.  Tell  him  it  must 
be  attended  to  immediately." 

"  Si,  Senora,"  responded  the  Mexican. 

They  all  stepped  out  to  the  veranda  and  watched  him 
hasten  across  the  plateau.  The  eastern  sky  was  begin- 
ning to  pale  with  the  first  hint  of  approaching  dawn. 

Kate  turned  back  to  the  house. 

"  Oh,  what  a  contemptible  part  to  play !  "  Jack 
heard  her  moan  as  she  passed  him.  His  heart  smote 
him. 

"  It  was  painful  for  you  to  send  that  note.  Why  did 
you  do  it  ?  \Ve  could  have  found  some  other  way.  My 
troubles  have  made  me  selfish." 

"  It  is  done,  Mr.  Scott,  it  is  done,"  she  replied.  "  Say 
no  more  about  it." 

Lucy's   spirits    had   risen    as   she   saw  something  was 

being  attempted — however  vague  and  intangible — to  shift 

j   the  burden  of  the  accusation  from  the  shoulders  of  the 

man  she  loved.     She  lingered  a  moment  with  Carrie  on 

|  the  veranda,  and  watched  the  dawn  brightening. 

"  He  might  never  have  seen  that  sun  rise  again,"  she 
\  murmured.  "  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for." 

Miss  Van  Zandt  attempted  to  entertain  her  friend  with 
the  humor  of  her  midnight  wanderings  with  Mr.  Ruggles. 

"  I  declare,  Carrie,"  exclaimed  Lucy,  "  you  have  been 
i  up  all  night.  And  this  is  the  day  of  the  school  picnic. 
i  You  will  not  be  fit  to  be  seen." 


132  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Carrie  protested  that  she  did  not  intend  to  go,  but 
Lucy  insisted. 

"  Of  course  you  will  go ;  why  shouldn't  you  ?  You 
have  promised  to  be  there,  you  know.  Besides,  dear,  I 
shall  have  to  be  with  papa,  and  some  of  us  should  be 
everywhere.  Mr.  Jeffries  will  be  there,  you  know." 

"  Very  well,"  assented  Carrie  ;  "  I'll  go,  if  you  want  me 
to — Mr.  Byrne  offered  to  drive  me  over." 

"  To  drive  you  over  where  ? "  cried  a  voice  behind 
them. 

The  girls  turned  and  Lucy  with  difficulty  suppressed  a 
scream.  It  seemed  to  her  that  Dick  Morley  stood  once 
more  in  the  door  of  his  house.  Mrs.  Morley  and  Jack 
followed  Ruggles  out. 

All  complimented  the  journalist  on  his  successful  make- 
up ;  but  Kate,  who  was  nervous  and  unsettled,  soon  left 
the  others  and  re-entered  the  house. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Byrne  going  to  drive  you  ? "  persisted 
Ruggles,  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  divert  the  conversa- 
tion from  his  own  appearance. 

"To  the  school  children's  picnic,  if  you  must  know," 
answered  Carrie. 

"  I    adore   picnics,"  he  exclaimed ;  "  if   I  were   not  a 
ghost  and  liable  to  scare  the  kids  into  seven  kinds  of  fits  \ 
I  should  like  to  go  myself." 

"  Your  ghostly  role  will  be  played  out  hours  before  it  is 
time  for  the  merrymaking,"  remarked  Jack,  with  a  desper- 
ate effort  to  speak  lightly. 

Lucy  alone  noticed  his  anxious,  troubled  face,  and  slid 
her  hand  into  his. 

"  Where  is  this  picnic  ?  "  asked  Ruggles. 

"  At  Mr.  Byrne's  vineyard,  I  believe,"  replied  Carrie. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  133 

"  That  settles  it.  I  must  go,"  cried  Ruggles.  "  Duty 
calls.  I  am  here  to  write  up  Mr.  Byrne's  grapes." 

Jack  6ould  hardly  restrain  his  impatience. 

"I  think,  Jimmy,  if  you  don't  mind — "  he  began  ner- 
vously. 

"  It's  time  to  bait  the  trap,  eh  ?  "  interrupted  the  jour- 
nalist, briskly.  "  All  right ;  I'm  with  you.  I've  got  to 
climb  up  there,  have  I  ? "  he  added,  looking  up  at  the 
Table  Rock.  "  If  poor  Dick  was  such  a  hister  as  they 
say,  I  don't  see  how  he  kept  himself  steady  for  that  climb 
every  day.  Here  goes  then  !  " 

He  ascended  the  little  path  at  the  side,  which  was 
much  easier  than  it  seemed  from  below.  Jack  accom- 
panied him  and  the  girls  watched  them  from  the  veranda. 

"  Are  such  likenesses  possible  ?  "  murmured  .Lucy  with 
a  slight  shiver. 

"That's  a  question  we'll  leave  for  our  psychological 
friend  Jeffries  to  puzzle  out  at  his  leisure,"  answered 
Carrie.  "  Lucy  you  look  as  white  as  a  ghost  yourself. 
Do  come  in  and  lie  down." 

"One  moment,"  answered  the  girl,  with  her  eyes  still 
fixed  on  the  figures  on  the  rock.  Scott  had  disposed 
Ruggles  in  Morley's  accustomed  attitude,  and  appeared 
to  be  giving  him  a  few  final  instructions.  The  latter 
seemed  in  a  bantering  mood,  and  now  and  then  his  light 
laugh  reached  the  girls  where  they  stood. 

At  last  Jack  left  him,  and  came  lightly  and  rapidly 
down  the  rocky  path. 

"  Come  inside,"  he  said,  as  he  gained  the  veranda. 
"The  house  must  be  shut  up,  and  everything  must  seem 
as  natural  and  quiet  as  possible  when  Jeffries  comes  on 
the  ground." 


134  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  But  you're  going  to  watch  what  he  does,  aren't  you? " 
inquired  Carrie. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I'm  going  to  watch,"  he  answered.  "  I 
have  selected  my  lookout  tower;  but  come  in,  come  in." 

The  door  closed  behind  them,  and  Ruggles  stretched 
himself  on  the  rock  in  such  a  position  that  he  could  com- 
mand the  chaparral  through  which  he  expected  Jeffries  to 
appear.  His  face  felt  cold  and  unnatural,  and  he  passed 
his  hand  over  it,  smiling  when  his  touch  encountered  the 
moustache,  which  alone  had  been  spared  in  imitation  of 
Morley. 

"  The  play's  the  thing,"  he  quoted,  with  a  silent  laugh, 
"  but  I  hope  I  shan't  have  to  do  still  life  for  any  consider- 
able time." 

And  from  behind  the  closed  blinds  of  Morley's  house 
four  pairs  of  eyes  were  bent  on  the  plateau. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

BEFORE  the  final  appeal  which  resulted  in  Scott's  tem- 
porary liberation,  Hainan  Jeffries  had  quietly  left  the 
crowd  and  taken  the  road  to  San  Pablo.  Whatever 
might  be  his  reasons  for  desiring  the  young  man's  death, 
and  they  were  evidently  weighty,  he  recognized  that 
events  had  passed  beyond  his  control  and  that  further 
interference  on  his  part  would  be  alike  unavailing  and 
injudicious.  He  had  been  violently  excited  during  the 
scenes  at  the  church,  and  his  mind  was  still  too  disturbed 
for  connected  thought. 

He  walked  down  the  ravine,  cutting  viciously  at  the 
bushes  with  a  light  cane  he  carried,  and  starting  ner- 
vously as  the  night  breeze  sighed  through  the  trees  and 
their  shadows  wrought  strange  effects  of  motion  on  the 
patches  of  moonlight  at  his  feet. 

On  reaching  the  plaza  he  sought  out  a  dark  corner 
under  the  wall  of  the  hotel,  where  he  watched  and 
waited.  He  saw  the  men  who  had  carried  the  sheriff 
come  out  and  overheard  enough  of  their  conversation  to 
learn  that  they  were  still  in  doubt  as  to  the  extent  of 
Starkweather's  injuries.  Then  they  passed  out  of  sight 
and  all  was  quiet  again. 

Voices  echoed  from  the  ravine,  and  presently  the  whole 
body  of  vigilantes  appeared — talking,  arguing,  occasion- 
ally swearing.  They  came  on  in  detached  groups,  by 
twos  and  threes,  and  halted  when  they  had  gained  the 

J35 


1 3  6  JUD  GE  L  YNCH. 

plaza  so  as  to  give  the  stragglers  time  to  come  up. 
Masks  were  discarded  and  the  rough,  hard-featured  fel- 
lows looked  grimly  picturesque  in  the  moonlight.  The 
schoolmaster  drew  back  further  into  the  shadow  and 
shivered  as  from  the  effects  of  a  physical  chill. 

"  Sentimental  fools  !  "  he  muttered. 

Pat  Byrne  arrived  among  the  last,  and  immediately 
suggested  an  adjournment  to  the  Spread  Eagle.  He  was 
evidently  in  high  spirits,  and  he  spoke  with  a  hearty  ring 
in  his  voice. 

"  Come  over  to  the  saloon,  boys  ;  this  has  been  a  quare 
sort  of  a  night  entirely,  and  ye'll  none  o'  ye  be  the  worse 
for  a  nightcap  before  ye  turn  in.  I'll  open  for  ye  ;  I've 
the  key  in  my  pocket. 

The  suggestion  met  with  general  favor.  Hank  Dol- 
lett,  whose  left  hand  was  roughly  bandaged  in  a  blood- 
stained handkerchief,  hailed  the  idea  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Bully  for  you,  Pat ;  I  need  something  to  keep  me 
from  taking  cold  in  my  broken  fingers."  They  all 
trooped  over  to  the  Spread  Eagle,  and  presently  vanished 
behind  its  swinging  doors.  The  plaza  became  once  more 
silent  and  solitary.  And  still  Jeffries  watched  and 
waited.  For  whom  or  for  what  ?  He  did  not  himself 
know. 

Another  figure  appeared  from  the  ravine,  and  crossing 
the  square  with  a  brisk  step,  entered  the  hotel,  passing  so 
close  to  Jeffries  that  the  latter  could  have  touched  him  by 
stretching  out  his  hand.  It  was  Jack  Scott,  come  to 
inquire  about  the  sheriff.  The  schoolmaster  drew  him- 
self together  like  a  panther  on  the  spring,  and  seemed 
about  to  fling  himself  on  the  advancing  figure,  while  his 
hand  sought  his  breast.  But  he  suffered  the  young  man 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  137 


to  pass  without  making  any  demonstration,  and  stepped 
from  the  shadow  with  a  bitter  curse  as  the  other  vanished 
in  the  hotel  entry. 

"  Where  could  I  have  lost  that  knife  ?  "  he  muttered. 
"  This  is  a  pretty  time  for  me  to  go  unarmed." 

Then  he  reflected  a  moment.  "  Ah,  it  is  there,"  he 
said;  "of  course  it  must  be  there!  Why  hadn't  1 
thought  of  that  before  ?  " 

He  crossed  the  plaza  almost  at  a  run  and  descended 
one  of  the  narrow  tracks  that  led  down  among  the  sand 
bluffs  to  the  beach.  The  broad  Pacific  lay  before  him, 
smiling  and  dimpling  under  the  moon  ;  and  calm  as  was 
its  surface  the  strand  was  laced  with  white  from  the 
ceaseless  foaming  and  breaking  of  the  languid  ocean  swell. 
The  monotonous  boom  of  the  summer  sea  sounded  weird 
and  lonesome  in  the  hush  of  the  night. 

Jeffries  walked  rapidly  northward  till  he  reached  a 
spot  where  the  ribs  of  an  old  boat,  half  buried  in  the 
sand,  supplied  him  the  landmark  which  he  sought. 

"  It  was  somewhere  hereabouts,"  he  muttered,  and  he 
commenced  an  earnest  scrutiny  of  the  strand,  bending 
down  to  examine  every  inequality  of  the  ground  and 
occasionally  starting  aside  with  an  exclamation  to  pick 
up  some  stalk  of  seaweed  or  stick  of  driftwood  which 
marred  the  level  surface,  only  to  let  it  fall  again  in  dis- 
appointment and  commence  the  search  anew. 

"  It  must  be  here,"  he  said  aloud,  "  I  recollect  now, 
how  I  let  it  fall,  and — yes — this  is  the  very  spot !  Not 
ten  yards  from  the  old  boat  frame." 

Taking  this  stranded  waif  as  a  center,  he  ranged  all 
round  it,  going  in  a  circle  of  some  thirty  or  forty  yards 
in  diameter,  and  marking  off  the  ground  with  his  cane 


138  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

so  that  no  part  should  escape  scrutiny.  Evidently  he 
attached  great  importance  to  the  quest. 

"  If  any  one  should  pick  it  up,"  he  mused  with  a  shud- 
der. "  Well,  what  if  he  did  ?  "  he  went  on  defiantly,  as 
jf  arguing  some  disputed  question  with  a  visible  adver- 
sary. "  What  if  he  did  ?  It  proves  nothing  ;  but  I  wish 
I  could  find  it." 

And  then,  for  the  third  or  fourth  time,  he  began  to 
travel  round  his  circle  with  the  patient  attention  of  a 
hound  on  the  trail. 

"  I  should  have  come  sooner,"  he  muttered,  "  but  I  had 
no  chance  ;  I  didn't  think  of  it  till  I  saw  the  fellow ; 
besides,  in  any  case,  I  should  have  been  obliged  to  wait 
for  night." 

And  so  the  search  went  on  till  the  light  of  the  wester- 
ing moon  was  withdrawn  and  a  filmy  gray  mist  blurred 
the  outlines  of  sea  and  shore. 

An  added  touch  of  rawness  in  the  air  and  a  fresher 
edge  to  the  breeze  showed  that  the  dawn  was  not  far 
off. 

Then  Jeffries  relinquished  his  purpose  and  turned  back 
toward  San  Pablo  by  the  way  he  had  come. 

The  square  was  still  deserted  and  looked  gloomier 
than  ever  since  the  moon  had  set ;  but  from  the  Spread 
Eagle  a  hum  of  voices  and  a  clink  of  glasses  showed  that 
the  vigilantes  were  still  astir  and  had  probably  deter- 
mined to  see  the  thing  through. 

The  schoolmaster  approached  the  saloon,  and  peeped 
through  the  doors.  There  had  been  no  secession  from 
the  ranks  which  Byrne  had  led  in  some  hours  before. 
The  whole  band  that  had  been  present  at  the  attack  on 
the  church  at  midnight  was  still  awake  and  animated  at 


JUDGE  L  YNCIL  \  39 

four  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Jeffries  would  have  liked 
to  enter  and  join  the  party.  He  was  a  man  who  never 
drank — he  was  as  fanatical  in  his  abstinence  as  in  all 
his  other  beliefs  and  theories  ;  but  at  this  moment  he 
was  chilled  and  dispirited  ;  he  seemed  to  feel  the  want 
of  human  companionship,  and  the  interior  of  the  saloon 
looked  bright  and  inviting  in  contrast  to  the  damp  mist 
that  was  creeping  up  from  the  beach.  He  pushed  the 
door  partly  open  and  stepped  inside.  No  one  noticed 
him.  Mr.  Byrne  stood  near  the  end  of  the  bar,  and  was 
speaking  as  the  schoolmaster  entered  : 

"  It  may  be  as  ye  say,  Mr.  Smith.  You  call  Ham  an 
Jeffries  a  crank,  an'  sorry  I'd  be  to  dispute  your  word  ; 
but  I'd  be  loath  to  state  that  as  me  own  opinion  without 
qualification.  He's  a  highly  intelligint  man — divil  a 
doubt  of  that — an'  the  childher  all  take  to  him,  an'  that's 
no  bad  sign.  There's  my  boy  Pat  swears  by  him.  But 
— an'  ye'll  folly  me  in  this,  gintlemen — wan  man  doesn't 
make  a  dead  set  at  another  without  raison,  an'  if  ye'l  tell 
me  the  raison  why  a  harmless  gintlemen  like  the  school- 
master was  so  mighty  anxious*  to  put  a  rope  found  the 
neck  of  another  harmless  gintlemen  like  my  book-keeper, 
ye'll  greatly  obleege  me  an'  ye'll  let  the  first  glimpse  of 
daylight  into  the  mystery  o'  Drunken  Dick's  murder. 
Fill  'em  up  agen,  Charley." 

Jeffries  slipped  out  into  the  night  and  paced  to  and 
fio  in  the  plaza  with  rapid  steps.  No  one  had  seen  him. 
He  had  looked  into  the  saloon  to  find  himself  an  object 
of  speculation  and  discussion  in  his  absence,  and,  like 
most  listeners,  what  he  heard  did  not  please  him.  More 
and  more  strongly  he  felt  that  there  was  a  duel  to  the 
death  between  himself  and  Jack  Scott.  The  school- 


140  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

master  realized  that  lie  had  a  powerful  ally  in  time.  If 
he  could  postpone  the  combat  he  could  win  without  a 
struggle.  If  the  game  should  be  deferred,  the  stakes 
would  be  adjudged  without  effort.  He  glanced  at  his 
watch.  Almost  four  o'clock.  His  ally  had  been  work- 
ing for  him  silently  and  steadily,  while  he  had  been  dis. 
tressing  himself  at  his  own  forced  inaction.  Jack  Scott 
had  less  than  twenty  hours  left. 

A  voice  accosting  him  from  the  darkness  startled  Jef- 
fries violently.  He  swerved  aside  like  a  frightened  horse, 
and  for  a  moment  could  not  command  his  voice  to  reply, 
though  he  speedily  recognized  that  the  man  who  had 
addressed  him  was  only  Corvey — the  despised  and 
degraded  village  loafer. 

"  It's  a  fine  night,  Mr.  Jeffries,"  said  Corvey.  "  Say, 
you  havVt  got  two  bits  in  your  clothes  you  would  lend  a 
fellow  till  pay  day,  have  you  ? " 

This  was  one  of  Corvey's  favorite  fictions.  He  always 
assumed  that  a  pay  day  dawned  for  him  in  each  .week, 
though  as  he  never  was  known  to  work,  it  naturally  fol- 
loWed  that  he  never  had  any  pay  to  receive.  How  the 
man  lived  no  one  could  have  told — himself  least  of  all. 
It  was  one  of  the  standing  marvels  of  San  Pablo.  Per- 
haps Pat  Byrne  could  have  hazarded  a  guess. 

Jeffries,  recovering  his  voice  with  an  effort,  gave  a 
reply  to  which  Corvey  was  well  accustomed,  though  he 
had  never  known  the  schoolmaster  so  "  out  of  sorts  "  as 
he  seemed  this  night.  But  Corvey  was  not  to  be  dis- 
posed of  so  easily.  He  had  drunk  full  and  deep  earlier 
in  the  evening,  and  had  slept  off  part  of  his  liquor  under 
the  lea  of  a  soft  sand  wreath  on  the  beach,  and  he  was 
tormented  with  an  inward  sinking  which  told  him  that  it 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  141 

was  time  to  "  freshen  the  nip."  So  he  returned  to  the 
charge. 

"  You  needn't  be  so  hard  on  a  poor  fellow,  schoolmas- 
ter," he  whined.  "  Because  you  don't  drink  yourself, 
that's  no  sign  that  you  knows  what  other  people's  consti- 
tootions  requires.  I  tell  you  if  I  don't  have  a  dram  soon 
I'll  have  the  horrors  before  morning." 

"  Will  you  go  away  and  not  bother  rne  ?  "  cried  Jeffries 
with  nervous  petulance.  "  I  tell  you  I've  nothing  for 
you." 

"  Only  two  bits,  Guvnor.  You'll  not  feel  that.  And 
I'll  pay  you  Saturday — wish  I  may  die  if  I  don't.  I've 
been  doing  some  chores  for  Pat  Byrne,  and  I've  money 
coming  to  me.  Roast  me  alive  if  I  ain't.  Say,  I'll  tell 
you  what  I'll  do,"  he  added,  struck  by  a  sudden  inspira- 
tion, as  the  schoolmaster  turned  away.  "  Here's  a  knife 
— a  bully  clasp  knife.  You  may  keep  it  till  I  pay  you. 
That's  collat,  that  is." 

He  thrust  a  long  buck-horn  nandled  knife  into  Jeffries' 
hand,  before  the  other  could  refuse  it.  The  schoolmaster 
was  on  the  point  of  throwing  it  down,  but  something 
about  it  caught  his  eye  and  seemed  to  attract  him.  He 
looked  at  it  narrowly,  turning  it  over  and  over.  It  was 
an  expensive,  well  finished  weapon,  and  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  little  rust  where  the  blade  joined  the  haft,  was 
as  good  as  new. 

"  Where  did  you  get  this  knife  ?  "  asked  Jeffries,  exam- 
ining it  closely. 

"  I  came  by  it  honestly,  that's  all  you  need  care  about 
it,"  answered  Corvey.  "  It's  good  value  for  a  quarter, 
ain't  it  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  a  pawnbroker,"  said  the  schoolmaster  slowly. 


142  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  I  can't  lend  money  on  things.  Tell  me  where  you  got 
this — the  truth  mind — and  I'll  see  what  I  can  do."_ 

"  Well,  -I  found  it  down  to  the  shore,  'bout  ten  or 
eleven  o'clock,"  answered  Corvey  reluctantly  ;  "but  that 
ain't  got  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Findins  keepins,  you 
know.  Are  you  going  to  let  me  have  that  two  bits  ? " 

"I'll  not  lend  you  money  on  it,  but  I'll  buy  it  if  you 
wish,"  replied  Jeffries.  "  I'll  give  you  four  bits  for  it." 

"  Make  it  a  dollar,  boss,"  cried  Corvey,  enthusiasti- 
cally, "  and  it's  a  trade.' 

Though  there  could  be  no  doubt  that  Corvey  would  be 
glad  to  sell  his  find  for  anything  he  could  get,  Jeffries 
handed  him  a  dollar  without  a  word,  and  the  drunkard 
made  straight  for  the  Spread  Eagle  with  the  price  of  an 
hour's  bestial  happiness  in  his  pocket. 

"  That  was  why  I  could  not  find  it,"  muttered  Jeffries, 
"  If  I  had  had  it  when  Scott  passed  awhile  ago — who 
knows  ?  Perhaps  it  is  best  as  it  is." 

And  he  put  the  knife  in  his  pocket. 


^ 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  schoolmaster  turned  into  a  little  street  that  led 
out  of  the  plaza  towards  the  south,  and  passing  one  or 
two  detached  frame  houses,  reached  his  own,  which  stood 
facing  the  ocean  a  little  back  from  the  road.  It  was  a 
neat  cottage,  consisting  of  four  rooms  and  a  tiny  hall,  all 
on  one  floor,  and  it  was  far  snugger  and  more  homelike 
than  the  majority  of  such  dwellings  at  San  Pablo.  Jef- 
fries, who  was  a  bachelor,  lived  there  alone,  a  Chinaman 
coining  in  by  the  day  to  do  the  work  and  cook  the  meals. 

The  schoolmaster  let  himself  in  with  a  key  and  lighted 
a  candle  which  stood  ready  to  his  hand  in  the  little  hall. 
Then  he  entered  the  room  to  his  right — not  his  bedroom 
• — and  setting  the  candle  on  the  table  took  from  a  shelf  a 
large  meerschaum  pipe  and  a  canister  of  tobacco.  He 
smoked  with  long,  rapid  inspirations,  like  one  who  sought 
the  sedative  influence  of  the  plant  without  caring  for  its 
fragrance.  And  as  he  smoked  he  reflected. 

Hainan  Jeffries  never  entered  this  house  without  think- 
ing of  Kate  Morley.  His  love  for  her,  half  sensual,  half 
mystical,  was  the  strongest  passion  in  his  strange,  dis- 
torted nature — a  nature  compact  of  strength — powerful  in 
its  delusions,  in  its  fantasies,  and  in  its  purposes.  He 
had  known  and  loved  her  for  nearly  three  years,  and  his 
feeling  for  Kate  Morley  was  the  same  as  it  had  been  at 
any  time  since  the  day  he  first  met  her.  His  love — if 
such  a  strange  tormented  fancy  is  worthy  to  be  described 


144  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

by  that  word — had  leaped  into  life  at  sight  of  her.  It 
had  burned  with  a  changeless  flame  ever  since.  From 
the  first  he  had  determined  to  win  Kate  Morley  for  his 
own. 

That  he  had  found  her  married  made  no  difference  to 
Jeffries.  He  had  seen  at  a  glance  that  Kate's  womanly 
nature  had  nothing  in  common  with  the  drunken  sot 
whose  name  she  bore,  but  he  did  not  make  sufficient 
allowance  for  Mrs.  Morley's  religious  and  conscientious 
character.  He  believed  that  Drunken  Dick  could  not 
live  long — what  he  strongly  desired  usually  ended  by 
becoming  an  article  of  faith  with  Haman  Jeffries — and  he 
regarded  Dick  as  the  sole  obstacle  to  his  union  with 
Kate.  But  when  three  years  passed,  and  the  drunken 
husband  lived  on,  the  schoolmaster,  with  all  his  faith  in 
an  ordered  future,  grew  wofully  impatient.  At  last  the 
obstacle  was  removed — removed  with  appalling  sudden 
ness,  and  by  means  on  which  no  man  could  have  calcu- 
lated ;  and  still  the  prize  for  which  Haman  had  striven 
and  waited  seemed  beyond  his  reach. 

He  looked  around  the  room  with  an  impatient  sigh. 
He  had  furnished  and  adorned  it  solely  with  a  view  to 
Kate's  comfort  and  taste,  yet  she  had  never  seen  it. 
But  so  strong  was  the  man's  desire  for  the  woman  whom, 
in  the  strong  jargon  of  his  creed,  he  thought  his  soul's 
affinity,  and  so  entirely  did  his  theory  of  predestination 
square  itself  with  his  hopes,  that  he  never  doubted,  but 
that  he  would  ultimately  bring  Kate  Morley  to  the  home 
he  had  prepared  for  her.  He  reviewed  the  position  and 
weighed  chances  with  a  calculation  which  showed  that  he 
looked  on  fate  as  marching  to  its  accomplishment  through 
human  accidents.  Mrs.  Morley  was  alone  in  the  world — 


JUDGE  LYNCH,  145 

so  he  reasoned — she  was  poor,  and  the  conditions  of  her 
life  with  Drunken  Dick  had  not  been  such  as  to  admit  of 
her  forming  any  close  friendships.  She  would  find  her- 
self alone  in  the  world,  and  beset  by  many  anxieties  and 
troubles.  He  had  placed  himself  at  her  service  :  to  him 
she  would  naturally  turn  when  the  difficulties  of  her 
isolated  situation  became  too  many  for  her.  He  was 
content  to  wait.  Every  hour  was  bringing  him  closer  to 
the  realization  of  his  dream. 

And  so  he  was  found  by  Juan  Estudillo  when  the  Mex- 
ican knocked  at  the  door  with  Kate  Morley's  letter  in  his 
hand. 

It  was  the  summons  that  Jeffries  had  been  expecting. 
It  had  come  sooner  than  he  had  looked  for  it,  but  that 
was  a  matter  for  congratulation  rather  than  for  misgiving. 
The  note  was  very  brief.  It  merely  asked  him  to  come 
to  the  plateau  at  once,  and  was  signed  "  Kate  Morley." 
But  he  asked  no  more.  The  appeal  had  been  made. 
Fate,  with  irresistible  force,  had  swept  the  woman  he 
desired  to  his  arms.  The  rest  was  in  his  own  hands. 

He  was  strangely  cool  and  collected.  All  the  nervous- 
ness that  had  tormented  him  during:  the  earlier  hours  of 

O 

the  night  had  passed  away  and  he  was  conscious  of 
neither  doubt  nor  fear — only  a  diffused  glow  of  triumph 
which  touched  his  pale  cheeks  with  hectic  color  and  gave 
his  black  eyes  an  unwonted  brilliancy,  that  made  them 
shine  and  flash  from  under  the  heavy  dark  brows.  Juan 
was  no  close  observer,  and  saw  nothing  unusual  in  the 
schoolmaster's  manner  and  appearance  as  he  read  the 
brief  letter  at  a  glance,  and  crushed  it  together  in  his 
hand  with  a  curt,  "  All  right ;  I  will  go." 

But  he  did  not  start  immediately.     He   offered   Estu 
10 


146  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

dillo  refreshments,  which  the  latter  declined,  and  he 
expressed  his  surprise  that  the  Mexican  should  have  ven- 
tured down  to  the  village  after  the  rough  treatment  he 
had  experienced  and  in  view  of  the  stern  warning  he  had 
received  from  the  vigilantes. 

Juan  was  non-committal  in  his  reply. 

"  Ah,  Senor,  a  man  must  visit  the  pueblo  at  times. 
Besides,  one  is  a  neighbor,  and  a  neighbor  has  duties." 

This  reference  to  Kate's  unprotected  position  touched 
Jeffries. 

"  You  are  a  good  fellow,  Juan,"  he  said,  offering  his 
hand ;  "  and  after  all  it  is  unreasonable  to  expect  you  to 
keep  out  of  town  for  six  months.  I  do  not  think  you 
incur  much  risk  in  coming.  This  much  more  serious 
business  of  Mr.  Scott  will  occupy  all  the  committee's 
attention." 

Juan's  only  reply  was  to  shrug  his  shoulders  and 
spread  out  the  palms  of  his  hands — a  gesture  common 
enough  among  the  Mexicans,  and  one  which  may  mean 
anything  or  nothing. 

"  Where  is  Carmelita  ? "  inquired  the  schoolmaster. 
"  I  have  not  seen  her  for  nearly  a  week.  She  is  not  ill,  I 
hope  ? " 

Carmelita  was  Estudillo's  little  daughter,  and  had  been 
a  regular  attendant  at  Jeffries'  school  up  till  a  few  days 
before. 

Juan  explained  that  he  had  not  liked  to  send  her  while 
he  himself  was  in  such  bad  odor  at  San  Pablo. 

"  Pooh,  pooh  !  "  answered  Jeffries.  "  You  mustn't  keep 
the  child  back  for  any  such  fancy  as  that.  Let  her  come 
down  to  the  picnic  at  Mr.  Byrne's  vineyard  to-day.  It 
will  be  a  good  beginning  for  her,  for  she  can  join  the 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  147 

other  children   at  play,  and   need  not   pass  through  the 
village  at  all." 

Juan  promised  that  he  would  do  so,  and  then,  excusing 
himself,  hurried  away.  As  nearly  as  he  could  under- 
stand from  the  conversation  he  had  heard  at  Morley's, 
the  schoolmaster  was  to  be  made  the  victim  of  some 
witch-spell  or  sorcery,  and  the  Mexican  had  no  desire  to 
be  mixed  up  in  any  such  uncanny  experiments.  So  he 
went  straight  home. 

Jeffries  took  his  hat  and  coat  from  the  nail  on  which  he 
had  hung  them  when  entering.  He  put  them  on  and  then 
hesitated  a  moment,  looking  around  the  room  to  make 
sure  he  had  forgotten  nothing.  He  had  been  up  all  night 
and  had  walked  a  considerable  distance,  besides  under- 
going an  unusual  degree  of  excitement  and  emotion  ;-yet 
he  was  conscious  of  neither  fatigue  nor  drowsiness. 
Still,  as  a  sacrifice  to  prudence,  he  delayed  yet  a  moment 
while  he  searched  a  cupboard  for  something  to  eat.  He 
found  some  bread,  and  breaking  off  a  piece  ate  it  stand- 
ing at  the  table.  A  glass  of  water  finished  his  frugal 
meal,  and  then  he  extinguished  the  candle,  wrapped  his 
cloak  closely  round  him,  and  went  out  into  the  shimmer- 
ing, uncertain  light  of  the  early  dawn. 

Voices  and  laughter  reached  him  as  he  crossed  the 
plaza.  The  Spread  Eagle  was  still  open,  and  he  peeped 
in  as  he  passed.  Byrne  was  no  longer  there,  and  Boone 
and  most  of  the  vigilantes  had  disappeared.  Field, 
however,  his  terrier  face  ablaze  with  excitement, 
was  still  holding  forth  with  immoderate  gesticulation 
to  a  group  of  half  a  dozen  men.  Charley  Whitehead 
yawned  behind  the  bar,  and  Corvey  lay  stretched  in 
a  drunken  slumber  under  the  billiard  table,  where 


148  JUDGE  LYNCH. 


some  one  had  charitably  rolled  him  out  of  the   way  of 
tramping  feet. 

Jeffries  turned  from  the  saloon  and  glanced  up  at  the| 
hotel.  There  was  no  light  in  any  of  the  windows,  and  he 
vaguely  wondered  which  was  Jack  Scott's  room.  He  had 
seen  the  young  man  go  in,  and  concluded  that  he  was 
there  still.  After  such  a  night  a  man  would  need  rest. 
Jeffries  smiled  grimly  and  passed  on. 

Once  more  he  struck  into  the  sandy  road,  whose  sur- 
face had  been  spurned  by  so  many  hurrying  feet  during 
the  last  twelve  hours.  The  dawn  was  well  advanced  now, 
and  the  landscape  looked  ghastly  and  deserted  in  the 
pale  morning  light. 

Where  the  chaparral  narrowed  in  close  to  the  path  it 
was  still  very  dark,  but  in  the  clearing  round  the  church 
everything  was  clearly  visible.  The  door  stood  wide 
open  as  the  sheriff  had  flung  it  when  he  had  come  out  to 
confront  the  mob.  Jeffries  stepped  aside  through  the 
gate  in  the  picket  fence  and  went  up  to  the  porch.  His 
nerves  were  playing  him  no  tricks  and  he  gloried  in  their 
unwonted  strength.  There  were  a  few  drops  of  blood  on 
the  steps.  They  might  have  come  from  the  sheriff  or 
from  Hank  Dollett — theirs  were  the  only  two  casualties 
of  the  night  assault. 

Jeffries  had  a  constitutional  antipathy  to  the  sight  of 
blood.  He  scraped  up  a  few  handfuls  of  sand  and 
scattered  it  over  the  dark  stains,  pressing  it  down  with 
his  feet.  Then  he  glanced  at  his  watch.  Five  o'clock. 
Surely  he  need  delay  no  longer.  He  could  go  to  Mrs. 
Morley  now,  especially  as  she  had  urged  him  to  come  at 
once. 

He    started    across    the    clearing   at    a    quicker   pace. 


JUD  GE  L  YNCH.  1 49 

Something  became  entangled  round  his  legs,  nearly 
throwing  him  down.  With  a  muttered  exclamation  he 
recovered  himself,  and  stopped  to  examine  the  obstruc- 
tion. It  was  a  riata,  a  long  rope,  and  it  lay  there  just  as 
Jack  had  flung  it  from  his  neck  when  the  committee  had 
decided  to  reprieve  him.  The  noose  was  widely  stretched 
and  gaped  on  the  ground  as  if  waiting  for  its  prey.  The 
sight  seemed  to  discompose  Jeffries,  for  he  turned  away 
with  a  shudder,  and  plunging  once  more  into  the  chapar- 
ral, followed  the  steep  road  as  it  wound  up  to  Morley's 
plateau. 

As  he  drew  nearer  to  the  house  that  held  the  woman 
for  whom  he  had  waited  so  long,  Jeffries'  spirits  rose. 
The  end  was  at  hand,  and  it  was  not  for  him  to  scrutinize 
the  means  by  which  Fate  had  accomplished  its  purpose. 
Kate's  summons  could  have  but  one  meaning.  Her  stub- 
born pride  was  broken  down  at  last ;  she  had  appealed  to 
him,  and  that  appeal  could  mean  nothing  but  a  cry  of 
capitulation. 

"  So  they  rise  who  are  not  afraid  to  climb,"  he  mut- 
tered, vigorously  breasting  the  steep  incline.  "  My  dream 
will  come  true  at  last.  Poor,  weak  woman  !  Could  she 
hope  to  resist  her  destiny  ? " 

A  turn  in  the  path  brought  him  in  view  of  the  house. 
There  it  stood,  on  the  further  edge  of  the  clearing,  dis- 
tinctly outlined  in  the  faint  morning  light.  Jeffries 
stopped  and  scanned  it  anxiously.  Door  and  windows 
were  alike  blank  and  shut.  There  was  no  sign  of  life 
about  the  place.  Could  it  be  all  a  deception,  a  trick  ? 
No;  her  letter  was  in  his  pocket;  he  had  recognized  the 
handwriting.  Behind  one  of  those  darkened  windows, 
expressionless  as  closed  eyelids,  Kate  Morley  was  await- 


I  5  O  JUD  GE  L  YNCH. 

ing  him.  He  emerged  from  the  trees  and  stepped 
briskly  across  the  plateau. 

The  road  ran  perilously  close  to  the  gully,  and  Hainan 
could  not  avert  his  eyes  from  its  depths.  It  exercised  a 
morbid  fascination  upon  him,  and  drew  his  gaze  down- 
ward. The  rocky  sides  were  clothed  with  scrub  and 
cactus,  and  the  shadows  of  night  still  lay  thickly  in  the 
abyss.  Jeffries  shivered  as  he  looked.  What  a  plunge 
for  a  man  to  take  !  Was  Dick  Morley  dead  when  he 
pitched  headlong  off  that  rock,  or  did  death  come  to  him 
among  the  cruel  stones  of  that  dim  gulf  ?  It  was  a  fright- 
ful fall.  Certainly  not  less  than  a  hundred  feet  from  the 
summit  of  Table  Rock. 

Jeffries  had  advanced  within  a  few  paces  of  the  house 
before  he  looked  up  to  verify  anew  his  estimate  of  the 
depth  ;  as  he  raised  his  eyes  his  heart  stood  still,  and  a 
weight  like  lead  chained  his  limbs  motionless.  All  the 
blood  in  his  body  seemed  to  stagnate  and  curdle  in  his 
veins,  and  his  knees  trembled  and  shook  beneath  him. 

There,  within  a  few  yards  of  him,  on  the  very  -edge  of 
Table  Rock,  stood  Richard  Morley. 

There  was  no  illusion,  nor  deception  possible.  The 
light  was  abundant,  and  the  features,  the  figure,  the 
attitude  of  the  dead  man  were  unmistakable. 

"  Does  the  grave  give  up  its  dead  ?  "  gasped  the  school- 
master. 

This  apparition  slowly  raised  its  right  hand  and  pointed 
with  accusing  finger  at  Jeffries. 

"  Murderer !  " 

The  hollow,  sepulchral  voice  gave  added  gravity  to  the 
formidable  denunciation  which  seemed  to  thunder  in 
Jeffries'  ears  with  appalling  volume  of  sound.  He  st-rove 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  151 

to  articulate,  he  tried  to  raise  his  arm  in  deprecatory 
gesture,  but  the  muscles  refused  to  obey  his  will,  and  the 
tongue  rattled  .dryly  in  his  mouth. 

With  a  faint  moan  the  wretched  man  fell  forward  on 
his  face  and  lay  senseless. 

At  the  same  instant  the  door  of  Morley's  house  opened 
and  Jack  sprang  down  the  steps.  Jimmy  Ruggles  joined 
him  beside  the  prostrate  body. 

"  We've  killed  him,  I'm  afraid,"  cried  the  journalist, 
terrified  at  the  result  of  the  experiment. 

"  No,  no,  he's  only  fainted,"  said  Jack,  after  a  hurried 
examination.  "  Now  what  do  you  think  ?  " 

"I  think  that  we  are  just  where  we  were  before," 
answered  Ruggles. 

"  Then  you  do  not  see  the  effects  of  conscience  in  this 
signal  overthrow  ?  "  asked  Scott,  pointing  to  the  prostrate 
form. 

"  It  may  be  conscience  ;  it  may  be  only  cowardice  or 
weak  nerves." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  replied  Jack.  "  But  the  ex- 
periment isn't  over  yet.  The  first  thing  is  to  bring  this 
man  to  his  senses  again." 

At  that  moment  voices  reached  the  two  friends  from 
the  chaparral  path. 

"  Here  comes  some  people,"  said  Jack,  quickly. 
"  They  musn't  see  me  at  this,  and  they'd  better  not  see 
you  at  all,  just  at  present.  Get  into  the  house." 

"  But  we  can't  leave  this  poor  fellow  like  that,"  ob- 
jected Ruggles. 

"  They'll  look  after  him.  It's  Smith  ;  I  know  his  voice. 
Come."  And  Jack  dragged  the  journalist  back  to  the 
steps.  Before  the  new-comers  came  out  on  the  clearing 


I  5  2  JUD  GE  L  YATCH. 

the  door  was  closed,  and  the  first  rays  of  the  newly  risen 
sun  slanting  through  the  trees,  shone  only  on  the  red 
sand  of  the  plateau  and  the  dusty  green  of  the  stunted 
shrubs. 

Smith  and  Hank  Dollett,  who  had  agreed  to  clear  away 
the  cobwebs  of  the  night  by  an  early  stroll,  came  along 
the  path  and  almost  stepped  on  Jeffries  before  they  saw 
him. 

"  It's  the  schoolmaster,"  cried  the  startled  men,  spring, 
ing  back  a  pace — "  now  what  in  thunder — ?  " 

"He  isn't  drunk  anyhow,"  remarked  Dollett,  "as  I'd 
say  if  it  was  any  one  else,  and  he  isn't  dead.  Come, 
schoolmaster,  brace  up  ;  give  an  account  of  yourself." 

Jeffries  raised  to  his  feet  between  the  two  men,  slowly 
opened  his  eyes.  He  kept  his  back  turned  toward  Table 
Rock,  and  looked  from  one  to- the  other  in  a  bewildered 
way. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Jeffries  ?  What's  happened  you  ?  " 
asked  Smith. 

The  schoolmaster  caught  his  breath  with  an  effort,  and 
answered  faintly,  with  a  weak,  shuddering  sigh  : 

"  Take  me  home,  please.  Take  me  home.  I've  seen  a 
shocking  sight  to-day." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

LITTLE  business  was  done  on  the  day  following  Dick 
Morley's  murder.  San  Pablo  was  suffering  from  reaction, 
and  her  citizens,  a  large  number  of  whom  had  been  up 
all  night,  lounged  vacantly  about  the  plaza,  or  occupied 
chairs  on  the  hotel  veranda,  where  they  smoked  or 
chewed,  as  taste  impelled  them,  and  discussed  the  events 
of  the  past  twenty-four  hours. 

It  was  the  day  of  the  school  picnic,  too  ;  always  a. 
festival  of  importance  in  the  village,  and  it  was  some- 
thing to  see  the  merry  groups  of  children  collecting  in 
the  square  and  starting  for  the  vineyard  in  charge  of 
Mr.  Jeffries — a  merry,  lightrhearted  band,  to  which  the 
recent  tragedy  afforded  subject  for  conversation,  without 
in  the  least  affecting  its  prevailing  high  spirits. 

"  The  schoolmaster  seems  to  have  got  over  his  fit 
bravely,"  remarked  Dollett  to  Smith,  as  the  two  men 
watched  the  procession  forming  in  the  plaza. 

"Jeffries  is  a  queer  snoozer,"  returned  the  storekeeper, 
removing  the  cigar  from  his  lips  to  see  if  it  burned  true. 
"  He's  always  having  visions  and  he  gets  over  them 
again.  Not  but  what  I'll  confess  that  that  special  corre- 
spondent from  'Frisco  looks  enough  like  Drunken  Dick  to 
give  any  man  a  turn  if  he  came  across  him  unexpectedly." 

"  It  is  queer  how  much  one  man  may  look  like  another," 
replied  Dollett.  "  Do  you  reckon  the  schoolmaster  saw 
him  ? " 


I  5  4  JUD  GE  L  YNCH. 

"  It  seems  like  it,"  answered  Smith.  "  He  swore  he 
had  seen  Morley — but  of  course  all  that  business  about 
his  being  on  the  rock  was  nothing  but  spiritualist  trim- 
mings. What  would  Mr.  Ruggles  be  doing  stuck  up 
there,  even  if  he  was  anywhere  around  that  hour  of  the 
morning,  which  I  doubt." 

Hainan  Jeffries  certainly  showed  no  signs  of  the  shock 
he  had  experienced  a  few  hours  before,  and  he  shep- 
herded his  little  flock  out  of  San  Pablo  as  composedly  as 
though  there  was  nothing  on  his  mind  but  the  prospect  of 
a  day  of  pleasure. 

Punctually  at  12  o'clock,  Mr.  Byrne  drew  up  his  hand- 
some pair  of  bay  horses  at  the  hotel  entrance.  The 
Hon.  Pat  was  clean  and  rosy,  and  freshly  shaven.  There 
were  no  traces  of  a  sleepless  night  about  him.  His 
black  frock  coat — a  garment  which  no  stress  of  southern 
sun  could  ever  persuade  him  to  lay  aside — was  thoroughly 
orthodox.  His  tall  hat  was  neatly  brushed,  and  his 
whole  appearance  showed  that  he  had  made  a  toilet  for 
the  occasion.  He  even  wore  a  flower  in  his  buttonhole, 
and  the  anxious  way  in  which  he  occasionally  adjusted  it 
proved  that  the  ornament  was  an  unwonted  care.  Mr. 
Byrne  had  called  by  appointment  to  drive  Miss  Carrie 
Van  Zandt  over  to  the  vineyard. 

The  young  lady  presently  appeared,  looking  cool  and 
pretty  in  a  fresh  muslin  dress,  and  wearing  a  broad 
shade  hat  adorned  with  ribbons,  tilted  forward  over  her 
face  till  the  brim  almost  rested  on  the  tip  of  her  aspiring 
little  nose.  Carrie  could  not  boast  much  regularity  of 
feature,  but  youth,  health,  and  unfailing  spirits,  united 
with  a  delicate  complexion,  and  a  frank,  joyous  expression, 
to  make  her  a  very  attractive  girl. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  155 

Lucy  came  to  the  door  to  see  her  friend  start,  and  in 
reply  to  Mr.  Byrne's  inquiry,  told  him  that  her  father  was 
quite  comfortable,  and  that  Dr.  Meares  had  promised 
that  he  should  be  allowed  to  get  up  later  in  the  day. 
This  was  good  news  to  the  worthy  Irishman,  and  his 
spirits  rose  accordingly. 

"  An'  that's  a  good  hearin'?  "  he  said  heartily.  "  I  tell 
ye,  last  night  was  a  howly  terror,  but  sure,  look  at  it  now 
— it's  all  gone/' 

If  he  meant  the  night,  he  was  assuredly  within  the 
truth,  for  the  full  glare  of  the  noonday  sun  lay  upon 
everything,  and  it  was  impossible  not  'to  feel  that  the 
dangers  of  the  darkness  must  have  vanished  with  its 
shadows. 

"Good-by,  dear,"  called  Lucy,  as  Mr.  Byrne  helped 
Carrie  into  the  carriage  and  carefully  disposed  lap-robe 
and  duster  so  as  to  guard  the  freshness  of  her  toilet  from 
the  effects  of  a  three-mile  drive  over  the  powdery  roads — 
"good-by,  dear,  and  I  hope  you'll  have  a  good  time." 

"  If  you'd  only  think  better  of  it  and  come  yourself, 
Miss  Lucy,  there's  lashins  and  lavins  of  room  for  ye,  an' 
its  mesilf  'ud  only  be  too  proud  and  happy  to  have  two 
such  young  ladies,  wan  on  each  side  of  me,  and  be  here 
like  a  rose  between  two  thorns." 

Both  the  girls  laughed  heartily  at  the  Hon.  Pat's  in- 
verted compliment,  and  he  drove  off  covered  with  confu- 
sion, and  profoundly  conscious  that  he  had  not  said 
exactly  what  he  had  intended. 

Carrie  soon  rallied  him  out  of  his  temporary  embarrass- 
ment. She  was  anxious  to  know  if  he  thought  that  Jack 
Scott  was  still  in  any  danger,  and  if  so  what  steps  could 
be  taken  for  the  young  man's  protection. 


I  5  6  JUD  GE  L  YNCH. 

On  this  point  Mr.  Byrne  speedily  reassured  her.  In 
his  opinion  the  fiercer  passions  of  the  mob  had  cooled 
clown  since  the  night  before,  and  though  he  admitted 
that  it  would  be  well  if  Jack  could  run  down  the 
murderer,  he  did  not  think  his  life  would  be  sacrificed  to 
his  failure. 

"  It's  all  this  way,  me  dear  young  lady,"  he  said.  "  If 
so  be  as  the  boys  are  left  alone  an'  not  stirred  up  more 
betune  this  an'  to-night,  they'll  meet  him  at  the  Knob  and 
chin  a  bit,  and  end  by  handing  him  over  to  the  sheriff." 

"  But  if  they  are  stirred  up,"  persisted  Carrie. 

"  In  that  case  no  one  can  tell  what'll  happen.  It'll  be 
last  night  over  agin,  an'  maybe  mightn't  chance  to  have 
as  lucky  an  indin.  But,  sure,  who's  to  stir  thim  up?"  he 
added  cheerfully.  "  Not  me  nor  you,  I'm  sure,  nor  any 
wan  else  I  can  think  of." 

"  Mr.  Field  seemed  very  bitter  about  it,"  said  the  girl, 
meditatively. 

"  Mr.  Field,  me  dear  young  lady,  is  a  gintleman.and  a 
scholar,"  answered  Byrne  ;  "  not  but  what  I  can't  deny 
he's  been  doin'  more  incinerary  writin'  since  this  vigi- 
lance committee  started  nor  I  altogether  approve  of." 

"  I  wonder  you  let  him  continue  to  edit  your  paper, 
then,"  remarked  Carrie. 

Mr.  Byrne  closed  his  right  eye  and  his  face  assumed 
an  expression  of  deep  astuteness. 

"  The  Indepindint  must  come  out,  an'  there's  only  two 
men  in  the  town  capable  of  bringin'  it  out.  Wan  is 
Chamberlain  Field,  and  one  is  Jack  Scott.  Now  av  I 
were  to  sack  Field  to-day  and  they  was  to  hang  Scott  to- 
night— which  God  forbid,  but  I  say  av  they  were  to— 
where'd  I  be  ?  I'd  be  lift,  that's  where  I'd  be.  But 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  157 

wait  till  this  throuble  is  over  an'  I  can  git  a  new  editor 
down  from  the  bay,  an'  I'll  sack  Foxy  so  quick  it'll  mek 
his  head  swim." 

"  I  see,"  she  replied,  scarcely  able  to  suppress  a  smile 
at  her  companion's  suddenly  assumed  air  of  wisdom. 

"  Av  coorse  ye  do,  my  dear  young  lady,"  he  replied. 
"  I  must  be  on  the  safe  side,  but  I  don't  think  they'll 
hang  Jack  this  time." 

"  If  there  is  any  danger,"  said  Carrie  meditatively,  "  I 
should  think  the  best  thing  he  could  do  would  be  to 
escape." 

"  The  divil  a  worse — I  ax  yer  pardon,  me  dear  young 
lady — it's  the  very  worst  thing  he  cud  do.  If  they  found 
it  out  they'd  shoot  him  on  sight,  and  if  they  thought  he'd 
desaved  them  in  what  he  said  last  night  it  isn't  this  side 
o'  the  boorder  o'  San  Antonio  County  they'd  stop 
huntin'  him.  But  Jack's  a  lad  of  his  word,  an'  a  brave 
lad  into  the  bargain.  He'll  thry  no  such  foolish  thrick 
as  that." 

On  the  whole,  Carrie  found  Mr.  Byrne's  opinion  decid- 
edly consolatory,  and  embraced  it  for  the  same  reason,  if 
not  with  the  same  degree  of  faith  that  many  people 
embrace  religion,  because  it  was  comforting. 

As  they  passed  the  church  Mr.  Byrne  reined  in  for  a 
moment  and  remarked  : 

"  There's  the  edifice  that  was  the  centre  of  all  the 
thrubble  last  night." 

"  The  edifice  !  "  repeated  Carrie,  with  great  contempt. 
"  No  one  but  you  Californians  would  ever  dream  of 
calling  such  a  thing  an  edifice.  Isn't  it  built  of 
wood  ?  " 

"  Well,"    replied    Byrne,    "  I'm    not    o'    their    way    o' 


I  5  8  JUD  GE  L  YNCH. 

thinkin'  mesilf,  but  there's  a  many  respectable  men 
do  all  the  prayin'  they  find  time  for  inside  them  four 
walls." 

"  Yes,"  said  Carrie,  "  they  pray  in  it  by  day  and  batter 
it  down  at  night ;  now  they  wouldn't  do  that  to  a  stone 
church.  They's  more  sanctity  about  it." 

"  Yes,  there's  a  heap  more  sanctity  in  stone  nor  in 
wood  when  ye  come  at  it  wid  a  batterin'  ram,"  assented 
Byrne. 

"That  isn't  what  I  mean,"  objected  Carrie.  "Who 
could  ever  feel  religious  in  a  frame  church  ?  and  just 
think  how  wooden  the  organ  must  sound  ! " 

"  Maybe  it  would,  but  there's  no  organ,"  remarked 
Byrne. 

"  No  organ  !  "  cried  Carrie.  "  That's  just  like  you 
Californians.  How  do  you  ever  expect  to  get  to  heaven 
without  an  organ  ?  " 

"  Ye  must  ax  me  somethn'  aisier,  my  dear  young  lady," 
replied  Byrne,  and,  giving  the  bays  the  rein,  the  church 
was  soon  left  behind. 

"  You  are  going  to  show  Mr.  Ruggles  over  your  vine- 
yard to-day,  are  you  not  ?  "  inquired  Carrie,  after  a  short 
silence. 

"  I'm  afeard  I  won't  be  able  to  wait  very  long.  I  have 
to  go  on  to  San  Antonio  this  afternoon,"  answered  the 
Irishman.  "  But  I  didn't  know  as  ye  knew  anything 
about  Mr.  Ruggles." 

"  Why,  certainly  I  do,"  answered  Carrie.  "  I  knew 
him  in  'Frisco,  and  I  met  him  afterwards  on  the  stage 
and  rode  with  him  the  whole  way  from  Orvietas  to  San 
Miguel." 

"  Did  ye  now,   me    dear   young   lady  ?  "    returned   the 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  \  59 

Hon.  Pat.  "  I'm  sure  ye  med  the  journey  mighty  pleas- 
ant for  him." 

"  Really,  Mr.  Byrnes,"  began  Carrie. 

"Byrne,  me  dear  lady,  Byrne,"  he  interrupted. 
"  There's  only  wan  of  me." 

"  Mr.  Byrne  then.  I  never  feel  quite  sure  whether  you 
are  laughing  at  me  or  not." 

"Laugh,"  protested  Pat;  "why  should  I  laugh?  I 
smile  wid  pleasure  at  havin'  the  likes  of  ye  to  talk  to, 
maybe." 

"There  you  are  again,"  rejoined  she.  "You  Califor- 
nians  are  so  absurdly  complimentary." 

"Sure  soft  speeches  must  be  the  breath  of  our  nostrils," 
returned  Pat  gallantly,  "  when  we  see  a  star  from  the  east 
come  to  visit  us." 

"  Now,  now,  Mr.  Byrne,  this  will  never  do,"  was  Car- 
rie's laughing  remonstrance.  "  As  a  married  man — " 

"An'  how  d'ye  know  I'm  a  married  man? ''  he  inter- 
rupted. 

"  Do  you  think  I  could  have  been  twenty-four  hours  in 
San  Pablo  without  making  the  acquaintance  of  your 
charming  little  boy  ?  " 

"  The  young  vilyan,"  exclaimed  Byrne,  with  an  attempt 
at  mock  indignation  to  hide  his  intense  pride.  "  Is  it 
come  to  this  that  me  own  boy  is  beginning  to  cut  his 
ould  father  out  already  ?  But  this  time  there's  no  harm 
done.  I'm  a  widower." 

"  So  is  Sheriff  Starkweather,"  remarked  Carrie.  "  Upon 
my  word  I  must  take  care  to  not  lose  my  heart  to  any  of 
you  Californians.  You  seem  to  get  rid  of  your  wives  too 
promptly." 

Pat  laughed  and  changed  the  subject.     He  had  wheeled 


1 60  JUD  GE  L  YNCH. 

his  horses  into  a  narrow  track  bordering  the  foothills  to 
the  left,  and  began  to  explain  the  situation  of  the  vine- 
yard. Carrie,  who  recognized  the  place  as  that  at  which 
she  had  made  a  wrong  turning  the  night  before,  was 
quietly  amused.  Her  companion  soon  noticed  this. 

"  Now  it's  you's  laughin'  at  me,  an'  sarve  me  right,"  he 
said. 

"  No,  I  assure  you,"  the  girl  hastened  to  explain.  "  I 
was  laughing  at  my  own  thoughts.  But  I  am  paying 
attention,  really.  Tell  me  what  is  that  odd-looking  hill, 
taller  than  the  others  ?  " 

"  That's  Lone  Pine  Knob,"  he  answered,  and  the  reply 
immediately  brought  Miss  Van  Zandt's  vagrant  fancies 
home. 

If  Byrne  were  wrong  ;  if  the  mob  still  nursed  its  ven- 
geance ;  if  some  one  were  found  to  inflame  the  passions 
of  the  vigilantes  and  work  upon  their  feelings,  how 
tragically  might  end  this  fair  summer  day!  Carrie 
thought  of  Hainan  Jeffries  and  shuddered. 

They  had  reached  the  entrance  to  the  vineyard  and 
there  Mr.  Byrne  left  the  carriage  in  charge  of  a  Mexican 
helper,  and  proceeded  to  escort  Miss  Van  Zandt  up  the 
hill. 

The  vines,  trained  on  their  poles,  and  sometimes  on 
convenient  trees  or  shrubs,  grew  rank  and  luxuriant,  often 
so  tall  as  to  form  regular  fences  over  which  Miss  Van 
Zandt  could  not  look.  The  vineyard  was  much  neglected, 
as  Mr.  Byrne  owned  with  a  sigh,  but  to  the  girl  it  was  the 
more  picturesque  on  that  account,  and  the  rich  red  and 
purple  clusters  nestling  among  the  green  leaves,  afforded 
the  eye  a  feast  of  color  which  Carrie  was  artist  enough  to 
appreciate.  To  the  Hon.  Pat  all  this  vegetation  was 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  l6l 

merely  good  property  running  to  waste,  and  he  groaned 
in  spirit  and  cursed  the  strikers  under  his  breath. 

Voices  and  laughter,  echoing  through  the  leafy  screens, 
showed  that  they  had  reached  the  headquarters  of  the 
picnic.  Miss  Van  Zandt  put  her  fingers  on  her  Jip  to  im- 
press caution  on  her  companion,  and  peeping  through  a 
mass  of  vines  was  rewarded  with  a  pretty  sight. 

There  was  an  open  space  of  perhaps  half  an  acre  in 
extent  and  the  centre  of  it  was  occupied  by  a  kind  of 
sunken  cellar,  the  bricked  face  of  which,  with  its  massive 
grating  of  iron  bars,  was  directly  opposite  to  her.  The 
gate  stood  open 'now,  showing  the  excavation,  which  was 
quite  extensive,  and  was  lined  throughout  with  brick. 
The  interior  looked  dim  and  cool,  in  pleasant  contrast  to 
the  garish  sunshine  on  the  hillside.  Mr.  Byrne  had 
caused  this  cellar  to  be  dug  in  his  vineyard,  and  used  it 
sometimes  as  a  wine  vault  and  sometimes  for  other  pur- 
poses, but  it  was  empty  now. 

There  were  about  forty  children  on  the  ground,  some 
picking  grapes,  though  no  doubt  this  amusement  had 
already  palled  to  a  great  extent,  for  the  majority  were 
gathered  round  a  boy,  whom  the  Hon.  Pat  recognized  as 
his  son  and  heir,  who  was  haranguing  the  group  with 
much  earnestness  and  extravagant  gesticulation. 

"  D'ye  mind  that  now  ? "  chuckled  the  father  with 
keen  appreciation,  and  forgetting  himself  so  far  as  to 
emphasize  his  remark  by  a  dig  of  the  elbow  in  his  com- 
panion's ribs.  "  He's  a  natural  born  boss.  Blessed  if  he 
ain't."  Carrie  withdrew  a  little  from  Mr.  Byrne's  peril- 
ous neighborhood  and  looked  round  for  Mr.  Jeffries. 
There  he  was,  seated  on  the  shady  side  of  a  large  pile  of 
vine  poles,  and  reading  apparently,  though  he  had  a  book 


1 62  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

on  his  knee,  but  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  either 
sleeping  or  buried  in  his  own  thoughts. 

"Mr.  Jeffries  does  not  seem  very  lively,"  remarked 
Carrie,  calling  Mr.  Byrne's  attention  to  the  attitude  of 
the  schoolmaster. 

"  Ah,  he's  quare,"  responded  the  Hon.  Pat.  He  does 
be  dramin'  more  nor  half  his  time,  an'  whin  he  isn't 
dramin'  he's  consoortin'  with  spirits.  He's  not  quite 
right." 

"  I  suppose  we  may  as  well  go  on  and  join  them,"  said 
Carrie,  after  she  had  watched  the  group  for  a  moment 
longer. 

"  Just  as  ye  plaze,  me  dear  young  lady,"  replied  Byrne, 
"  but  I  think  I'll  lave  ye  for  awhile.  Mr.  Ruggles  is 
somewhere  about  the  place,  and  I've  got  to  see  that  he's 
all  right.  I'll  look  in  on  ye  agen,  before  I  start  for  San 
Antonio."  He  raised  his  hat  with  the  exaggerated  air  of 
politeness  which  was  habitual  with  him,  and  disappeared 
among  the  vines.  The  girl  turned  again  as  soon  as  he 
was  out  of  sight  to  look  at  the  children.  Under  the 
leadership  of  Pat  they  had  drawn  closer  to  the  leafy 
screen  behind  which  Miss  Van  Zandt  was  standing. 
Jeffries  still  sat  wrapt  and  motionless. 

"  Now,  kids,"  cried  young  Byrne's  shrill  voice.  "  I'll 
show  you  a  bully  game.  You  hear  me  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  ? "  asked  a  small  tow-headed  youngster, 
whose  widely  opened  eyes  seemed  always  on  the  lookout 
for  something  new. 

"Murder  and  lynching,"  was  Pat's  startling  reply. 
"  Now,  Johnny,  here's  your  pistol,  and  you  hold  it  so." 

He  put  a  stick  into  the  boy's  hand,  who  grasped  it  with 
that  readiness  of  make-believe  which  for  childhood  trans- 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  163 

forms  everything  into  reality.  Young  Pat  proceeded  to 
organize  his  game. 

"  You're  to  be  the  murdered  man,"  he  went  on,  select- 
ing a  boy  to  fill  the  role  of  victim,  "  and  when  he  shoots 
you  have  to  tumble  over  and  squirm  so." 

Carrie  glanced  at  Jeffries.  He  was  not  asleep,  for  his 
eyes  were  open,  but  at  the  distance  at  which  she  stood  his 
words,  if  he  uttered  any,  were  inaudible.  But  he  took 
no  notice  of  the  children. 

The  game  was  in  full  progress.  The  assassin  was 
posted  under  the  shelter  of  a  neighboring  vine ;  the 
victim  was  seated  at  a  few  paces'  distance,  smoking  an 
imaginary  pipe.  An  unforeseen  difficulty  occurred  to  a 
little  dark-eyed  maiden. 

"  How  will  he  know  when  he's  shot  ?  "  she  asked. 

Pat  junior  was  equal  to  the  emergency. 

"  Johnny  must  make  a  click  with  his  tongue,  same  as  if 
he  was  driving  a  horse,"  replied  the  inventor  of  the  game. 
"  I  know.  I'd  do  the  shooting  myself  only  I'd  have  to  be 
lynched,  and  then  I  wouldn't  be  able  to  show  you  how  to 
do  it  properly." 

Carrie  did  not  altogether  approve  of  this  sport,  and  felt 
as  if  she  ought  to  interfere,  but  she  did  not  move.  She 
was  conscious  of  a  thrill  of  the  nerves,  an  excited  desire 
to  see  what  would  come  next,  and  she  laughed  and  called 
herself  as  very  a  child  as  any  there,  but  she  held  her 
breath  and  waited  for  young  Pat's  next:  order. 

"  Shoot !  "  cried  the  boy. 

A  click  came  from  the  ambush,  a  wild,  confused  tum- 
ble was  executed  by  the  victim,  and  a  general  rush  for- 
ward by  the  children.  Evidently  the  game  was  popular. 

The  murderer  was  seized    and  dragged  from    his  lair 


164  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

amid  wild  cries  of  "  Lynch,  lynch  him  !  "  and  young  Patl 
slipped  round  Johnny's  neck  a  tendril  of  vine  which  he 
had  noosed  in  imitation  of  a  rope. 

The  sudden  movement  and  the  shouts  had  aroused  the 
schoolmaster.  He  came  forward  quickly  as  he  discov-j 
ered  the  import  of  the  game. 

"  For  shame,  for  shame,  children  !  "  he  cried.  "  Drop 
that,  Byrne  :  drop  that  this  instant.  How  dare  you  make 
a  burlesque  of  that  horrible  scene  ?  " 

"We're  only  playing,"  expostulated  Pat,  not  relishing 
this  interruption  of  his  sport. 

"  Playing  !  "  echoed  Jeffries,  passionately  :  "  what  a 
world  is  this  where  the  very  children  play  at  tragedy! 
If  you  must  imitate  your  elders  find  some  game  which 
reflects  the  brighter  side  of  our  natures— not  the  black- 
est." 

"  I'm  on  my  pa's  land,"  grumbled  young  Byrne,  evi- 
dently disposed  to  mutiny,  but  the  schoolmaster  was  rein- 
forced by  the  appearance  of  Carrie. 

"  Mr.  Jeffries  is  right,  children,"  she  said  as  she  came 
forward.  "  That  isn't  a  pretty  game  at  all." 

The  schoolmaster  took  her  interference  strangely.  He 
turned  away  without  a  word  and  resumed  the  place  he 
had  left  in  the  shade  of  the  vine-poles. 

Miss  Van  Zandt  drew  back  a  little  with  an  offended 
movement.  "But  of  course  you  are  in  Mr.  Jeffries' 
charge,  not  in  mine,"  she  continued. 

Hainan  heard  the  remark  and  hastened  to  apologize. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Van  Zandt,"  he  said;  "I 
intended  no  disrespect.  If  you  would  be  kind  enough  to 
take  the  children  off  my  hands  for  half  an  hour  it  would 
be  a  real  charity.  I  have  a  bad  headache  and  really 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  165 

should  not  be  held  accountable  for  what  I  say  or  do  to- 
day." 

This  explanation  was  ample  to  the  kind-hearted  girl. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  your  head  aches,  Mr.  Jeffries,"  she 
said.  "  I  will  gladly  play  with  the  little  ones  for  half  an 
hour  or  so  ;  I  came  here  expecting  it.  Come  along,"  she 
continued,  as  the  schoolmaster  remained  silent;  "let  us 
play  a  pretty  game  that  the  little  girls  can  join  in.  Why 
not  hide  and  seek  ? " 

This  suggestion  was  hailed  with  enthusiasm,  and  Carrie 
went  on  :  "  One  of  the  girls  shall  hide  and  the  boy  that 
finds  her  shall  kiss  her." 

"  All  right !  "  cried  Pat  Byrne.  "  You  hide,  Car- 
melita." 

"  Some  one's  sure  to  find  me,"  objected  the  dark-eyed 
little  maiden. 

"That's  all  right,"  rejoined  young  Pat.  "  I'll  find  you, 
and  you  like  kissing  me  ;  you  know  you  do." 

"  Now  she  must  have  a  fair  start  and  time  enough  to 
hide  herself,"  urged  Carrie,  as  the  Mexican  child  van- 
ished down  one  of  the  vine-bordered  alleys. 

In  a  few  minutes  Miss  Van  Zandt  led  the  laughing 
troop  in  pursuit,  and  the  open  space  around  the  vault  was 
deserted  save  for  the  dark  figure  of  Jeffries,  recumbent  in 
the  shadow. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  schoolmaster  lay  silent  and  motionless,  with  his 
face  turned  away  from  the  glare  of  the  sun.  He  did  not 
move  even  when  Juan  Estudillo  appeared  among  the 
vines  and  passed  within  a  few  yards.  Juan  had  been  at 
the  vineyard  all  the  morning,  but  had  kept  himself  in  the 
background  with  a  modesty  not  unnatural  in  a  man  who 
had  been  so  unceremoniously  ejected  from  the  town 
within  a  week.  But  he  had  been  anxious  to  assure  him- 
self that  the  sins  of  the  father  had  not  been  visited  on 
the  child  in  the  person  of  his  little  Carmelita,  and  he  had 
noticed  with  pleasure  that  the  girl  had  been  received  by 
her  schoolfellows  on  a  footing  of  perfect  equality. 

Satisfied  as  to  Carmelita,  Juan  proceeded  to  .consult 
his  own  comfort  in  his  own  way.  He  selected  a  shady 
nook,  where  he  reclined  at  his  ease  and  smoked  husk  cig- 
arettes with  that  appreciation  of  utter  laziness  which  is 
characteristic  of  his  race.  Presently  the  cigarette 
dropped  from  his  fingers ;  his  eyes  closed,  his  head 
nodded,  and  Juan  Estudillo  was  soon  deep  in  the  siesta 
to  which  every  true-born  Mexican  loves  to  treat  himself 
at  midday. 

Meanwhile  Jeffries  lay  motionless,  and  the  laughter  of 
the  children,  faintly  heard  in  the  distance,  seemed  only 
to  make  this  part  of  the  vineyard  appear  more  lone- 
some. 

Voices  were  heard  along  one  of  the  terraces,  and  Mr. 
166 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  1 67 

Byrne  appeared,  talking  in  an  animated  manner  with 
Jimmy  Ruggles. 

"  Av  ye  had  seen  him,  Mr.  Ruggles,"  the  worthy  Irish- 
man was  saying  ;  "  av  ye  had  seen  him,  ye  wouldn't  won- 
der. Ye're  as  like  Dick  Morley  as  two — as  two  " — Mr. 
Byrne  looked  round  for  a  similie — "  as  two  grapes,  an' 
liker." 

"  So  every  one  that  meets  me  tells  me,"  answered 
Jimmy.  "  He  was  my  cousin,  you  know." 

"Mr.  Ruggles,"  remarked  Byrne  impressively;  "it 
isn't  given  to  every  man  to  have  a  cousin  as  like  him  as 
two  samples  out  o'  the  same  bottle,  barrin'  ye  were  twins, 
which  wudn't  happen  often.  An'  it  isn't  given  to  every 
man  to  meet  that  similar  cousin  promiscuous  this  way, 
the  day  after  the  other  fellow  was  laid  out  as  stiff  as  I 
seen  Dick  Morley." 

"  I  suppose  it  must  have  an  odd  effect,"  replied  Rug- 
gles, with  the  air  of  a  man  who  was  tired  of  the  subject. 
"You've  a  fine  show  of  grapes  here." 

"  I  wish  I'd  as  good  a  show  to  get  them  gathered," 
replied  Byrne. 

"I'm  sorry  your  vineyard  isn't  working,"  said  the 
young  man  sympathetically. 

"  An'  faith,  me  frind,"  retorted  Byrne,  "  av  ye're  any 
sorrier  for  that  same  nor  I  am,  I'm  afraid  it  has  hurt  yer 
appetite." 

"The  place  seems  quite  lonesome,  compared  with  the 
other  vineyards  I  have  seen,"  remarked  Ruggles. 

"  An'  just  now  it  ought  to  be  as  busy  as  a  hive  o'  bees 
in  swarmin'  time,"  replied  Byrne.  "  But  it  is  what  ye 
might  call  retired  in  an  idle  spell.  The  nearest  house  is 
where  me  overseer  lives,  half  a  mile  away.  The  school 


1 68  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

children  are  picknickin'  here  to-day,  but  in  a  gineral  way 
it's  a  lonesome  spot  enough.  I  don't  see  where  Mr. 
Field  can  be,  though.  He  should  be  here  writin'  up  the 
picnic." 

"  Don't  let  me  detain  you,  Mr.  Byrne,"  said  Ruggles. 
"  You  told  me  you  had  to  go  to  San  Antonio  to-day,  and 
I  suppose  you  ought  soon  to  be  starting." 

"Well,  thank  ye,  Mr.  Ruggles,  av  ye  think  ye  can  mek 
out  \vidout  me.  I  have  to  stop  at  the  overseer's  house 
and  go  over  some  accounts  vvid  him  afore  I  start.  And 
maybe  I'll  see  Field  there,  and  if  I  do  I'll  send  him  to  ye.'' 

"Much  obliged,"  returned  Ruggles.  "I'll  get  along 
first  rate.  Au  revoir" 

"The  same  to  you  and  many  of  them,"  replied  Pat, 
climbing  the  terrace  and  plunging  into  the  wilderness  of 
vines. 

"  I'd  like  to  put  that  fellow  in  a  novel,"  soliloquized 
Ruggles,  as  he  picked  a  few  grapes ;  "  he's  the  most 
pompous,  good-hearted,  shrewd,  simple,  fantastic  creature 
it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  meet." 

And  so  pondering,  Mr.  Ruggles  strolled  off  along  the 
terraces,  thereby  just  missing  Mr.  Chamberlain  Field,  who 
arrived  post-haste  in  search  of  him,  and  running'past  the 
corner  of  the  vine  poles,  fairly  stumbled  over  Haman 
Jeffries,  who  still  lay  half  hidden  in  their  shadow. 

"  Sakes  alive  !  "  exclaimed  the  editor,  recoiling  a  step 
"you've  got  a  shocking  bad  habit  of  lying  around  under 
folks'  feet  of  late.  Dollett  tells  me  he  tumbled  over  you 
on  the  plateau  this  morning." 

"  Tin  a  little  tired,  Mr.  Field,"  returned  Jeffries,  rous- 
ing himself  and  dusting  small  particles  of  clay  from  his 
black  garments. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  169 

"  And  you  were  more  than  a  little  tired  when  Smith 
and  Dollett  struck  you,"  answered  Field.  "  Say,  have 
you  seen  Mr.  Ruggles  anywhere  around  ?  I  met  the 
Hon.  Pat  just  now  and  he  told  me  he  left  him  right 
here." 

"Who's  Mr.  Ruggles?"  inquired  the  schoolmaster. 

"Oh,  come  out  of  your  dream,"  returned  the  editor. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  haven't  heard  of 
the  San  Francisco  correspondent  who  arrived  this  morn- 
ing?" 

"  I  have  heard  that  there  was  such  a  gehtleman  ex- 
pected," replied  the  schoolmaster,  "  but  I  haven't  seen 
him,  and  should  not  know  him  if  I  had." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  would,"  returned  the  editor.  "If  you 
saw  him,  you  couldn't  fail  to  remark  him.  He's  as  like 
Dick  Morley  as  two  peas." 

"  Like  the  murdered  man,"  cried  Jeffries,  startled. 

"  Exactly,"  repeated  the  other;  "so  like  he  might  be 
the  dead  man  come  to  life  again." 

"The  dead  man  come  to  life,"  echoed  Hainan  in 
an  awe-stricken  whisper — "  Do  dead  men  ever  come  to 
life  ? " 

"  I  guass  not,"  returned  Field,  "  at  least  not  in  my 
experience  ;  I  only  used  a  figure  of  speech." 

"  He  might  be  the  dead  man  come  to  life,"  mused 
Jeffries  in  the  same  tone.  "  So,  Mr.  Field,  if  you  were  to 
meet  Richard  Morley  in  the  flesh — outside  his  own  door 
for  instance — on  the  very  rock  he  was  shot  from — " 

"Is  that  what  gave  you  your  fit  this  morning?"  broke 
in  the  editor.  "I  heard  the  boys  talking  about  it,  and  I 
thought  you  must  have  seen  something." 

"  If   he   pointed   his   finger   at  you,"  pursued  Jeffries, 


I/O  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

without  heeding  the  interruption,  "if  he  spoke  of  his 
death — his  murder — " 

"  Don't  talk  like  that,"  cried  Field  with  a  shiver. 
"What  awful  ideas  you  have!  You  make  my  flesh 
creep." 

Jeffries'  face  was  very  pale  ;  he  was  biting  his  lip  and 
clenching  his  hands  spasmodically,  wrestling  with  his 
gloomy  thoughts  as  though  they  were  some  tangible  foe. 

"  No,  no/'  he  muttered  at  length,  "  as  you  say,  the 
dead  never  return.  And  if  you  met  Richard  Morley  as 
you  thought,  you  would  have  known  that  it  could  only 
have  been  this  Mr.  Ruggles,  who  bears  such  an  extraordi- 
nary resemblance  to  him." 

"Of  course,"  replied  Field.  "  I  should  take  the  most 
natu'ral  and  rational  solution  of  any  apparition." 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  assented  Jeffries,  "so  will  I — 
I  mean  so  should  I." 

"  Besides,"  added  Field,  "  a  word  or  two  would  show 
Ruggles  for  what  he  was." 

"  Ah,  but  the  words  were  not  such  as  Ruggles  or  any 
other  stranger  would  use,"  cried  the  schoolmaster  eagerly. 
"  They  were  such  as  the  dead  man  might  have  spoken 
if—" 

"  If  what !  "  asked  Field,  after  waiting  a  moment  in 
vain  for  the  other  to  complete  his  sentence.  "  What  on 
earth  are  you  talking  about  ?  Have  you  seen  a  ghost  ?  " 

Jeffries  recovered  himself  with  an  effort. 

"  Never  mind  me,"  he  said,  with  an  attempt  at  light- 
ness. "  I  am — I  have  been  thinking  and  speculating." 

"  Ah,  that  accounts,"  rejoined  the  editor,  with  a  coarse 
laugh.  "  I  wasn't  myself  for  a  week  after  I  dabbled  in 
mining  stock." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  171 

Haman  shivered  slightly,  but  did  not  reply. 

"  Now  look  here,  Jeffries,"  pursued  Field,  not  un- 
kindly ;  "  you're  ill  and  out  of  sorts.  Take  a  drop  of 
this,"  and  he  produced  a  capacious  flask  from  his  pocket. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Field;  I  never  drink,"  answered  the 
schoolmaster. 

"  Well,  I  do,"  returned  the  editor,  suiting  the  action  to 
the  word  and  swallowing  a  generous  draught  of  the 
liquor,  "  and  if  you  had  more  to  do  with  spirits  of  this 
kind  and  less  with  spirits  of — of  the  other  kind,  it's  my 
opinion  you'd  be  a  happier  and  a  healthier  man." 

Jeffries  did  not  discuss  the  point. 

"  We  will  walk  on  if  you  wish,"  he  said ;  "  we  may 
meet  Mr.  Ruggles  somewhere  in  the  vineyard,  and  after 
what  you  have  told  me  I  confess  I  am  curious  to  see 
him.  Besides,  I  must  look  after  the  children.  Miss 
Van  Zandt  has  very  kindly  taken  them  away  and  is 
amusing  them  better  than  I  could,  I  don't  doubt;  but  I 
must  not  impose  on  good-nature  and  leave  them  all  day 
on  her  hands." 

"  Oh,  you  can  amuse  kids  with  any  man  I  ever  saw." 
rejoined  Field,  laughing,  "  though  how  you  do  it  puzzles 
me.  I  shouldn't  think  you  were  cut  for  that  sort  of  thing. 
Perhaps  you  can  tell  them  ghost  stories." 

The  two  men  moved  off  together,  but  Field  stopped  as 
he  noticed  Juan  Estudillo  sleeping  under  a  bower  of 
vines. 

"  There's  that  cussed  greaser  !  "  he  cried.  "  I  wonder 
the  fellow  has  the  gall  to  show  his  nose  here  after  what 
happened  last  week.  Let's  roust  him  out  of  that  and 
give  him  a  good  scare  and  send  him  back  to  his  hog-pen 
of  a  ranch  where  he  belongs." 


1 72  JUDGE  L  YNCH. 

"  No,  no,  let  him  sleep,"  remonstrated  Jeffries  gently. 
"  The  poor  fellow's  doing  no  harm  there  ;  and  besides 
his  little  girl  is  at  the  picnic,  and  most  likely  he  has  come 
to  look  after  her." 

"  I  don't  think  I'm.  doing  my  duty  as  a  member  of  the 
vigilance  committee  in  not  seeing  its  sentences  re- 
spected," grumbled  Field,  yielding  the  point  the  more 
readily  that  he  was  personally  somewhat  afraid  of  the 
Mexican,  and  saw  that  in  the  present  case  he  could  not 
count  on  the  schoolmaster's  assistance.  "  I  don't  see 
the  use  of  ^a  committee  at  all,  if  it  isn't  going  to  assert 
itself.  Here  first  of  all  is  a  greaser  warned  out  of  town 
for  six  months,  and  back  again  within  the  week  ;  and 
then  Jack  Scott  let  walk  off  with  a  rope  round  his  neck, 
and  the  bloodiest  murder  that  has  ever  stained  San 
Pablo's  annals  goes  unavenged." 

Jeffries  stopped  suddenly  and  gripped  the  other's  arm. 

"Unavenged  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  cried.  "  Do 
you  think  Jack  Scott  has  escaped?  The  roads  should 
have  been  watched — the  place  should  have  been  guarded 
—the—" 

"Oh,  no;  I  don't  mean  that,"  interrupted  Field. 
"  He'll  show  up  right  enough.  I  saw  him  to-day  for  the 
matter  of  that.  But  I  don't  think  that  the  boys'll  feel 
like  hanging  him  when  they've  once  let  him  go." 

"But  they  must,  they  shall!"  shouted  Jeffries  vehe- 
mently. "  They  have  sworn — they  must  remember  their 
oaths.  They  will  make  themselves  a  laughing-stock  to 
the  whole  community." 

"  Well,  no  doubt  if  any  one  takes  the  trouble  to  work 
them  up  to  the  point  they'll  carry  it  through,"  replied 
Field,  "  but  I  don't  see  who's  going  to  do  that." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  173 

"  Chamberlain  Field,"  said  Jeffries,  speaking  with  a 
concentration  that  bore  down  all  opposition  in  the  other's 
shallow  nature ;  "  I  tell  you  Richard  Morley's  death 
must  be  avenged,  and  no  paltry  compassion  on  the  part 
of  the  committee  shall  save  Scott's  life.  He  shall  hang 
for  that  murder — you  mark  my  words — I  say  he  shall 
hang  for  it ! " 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

MR.  RUGGLES  had  strolled  in  solitude  for  some  distance 
along  the  terrace,  when  he  became  conscious  of  footsteps 
and  a  rustling  noise  a  few  paces  in  front  of  him.  He 
continued  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  and,  peering 
through  the  leaves,  he  saw  a  pretty  picture. 

Carrie  Van  Zandt,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  enjoyment 
and  her  cheeks  flushed  with  exercise,  had  sunk  down  in  a 
vine-clad  recess,  where  she  gathered  her  muslin  skirts 
into  as  small  a  compass  as  possible,  disposed  the  branches 
so  as  to  conceal  the  hiding  place  she  had  chosen,  and 
stifling  her  laughter  as  best  she  could,  she  lay  silent  but 
alert,  peeping  back  every  now  and  then  with  the  quick, 
expectant  glance  proper  to  any  hunted  creature. 

Miss  Van  Zandt  had  occupied  Mr.  Ruggles'  thoughts  a 
good  deal  for  some  time  past,  and  he  considered  himself 
very  fortunate  to  find  her  thus  couched  in  his  path  like  a 
vineyard  dryad.  He  was  in  no  hurry  to  advance,  but 
stood  and  admired  her  for  several  minutes,  while  he 
wondered  what  she  could  be  about. 

"  She  looks  as  if  she  were  hiding  from  some  one,"  he 
pondered.  "  It  can't  be  from  me,  because  she  hasn't 
seen  me." 

"  Cuckoo  !  "  cried  Carrie,  musically,  but  Mr.  Ruggles 
knew  that  this  apparently  irrelevant  observation  was  not 
addressed  to  him,  for  the  girl  was  still  looking  behind  her. 

"  That's  very  odd,"  he  thought;  "if  I  were  really  the 
*74 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  1 75 

Californian  she  imagines  me,  I  could  turn  around  and 
have  a  fling  at  the  peculiarities  of  *  you  New  Yorkers,'  as 
she  shows  them." 

Then  he  scrambled  through  and  under  the  interlacing 
vines  till  he  reached  the  alley  in  which  the  young  lady  was 
lurking.  In  spite  of  his  efforts  his  approach  had  been 
by  no  means  noiseless,  and  Carrie  was  on  the  watch  as 
he  emerged. 

"  Hush  ;  go  away,"  she  cried  as  soon  as  she  recognized, 
the  intruder  ;  "  I'm  hiding." 

"  Are  you  ?  "  returned  Jimmy  coolly,  "  then  I've  found 
you." 

"That's  not  fair,"  she  expostulated.  "  You  are  not  in 
the  game." 

"  Can't  I  come  in  ?  "  he  pleaded. 

"  The  idea !  "  she  cried,  laughing  and  blushing  ;  "  a  big 
man  like  you.  Besides  you  saw  me  hide.  You  can't  find 
me." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  argued,  "  if  I  hadn't  seen  you 
hide,  I  probably  couldn't  have  found  you." 

"How  you  tease,"  said  Carrie,  petulantly. 

"  You  know  I  expected  to  find  you  at  the  picnic,"  he 
went  on. 

"  Oh,  then,  I  suppose  you're  content,"  she  replied. 
"Though  I'm  sure  I  can't  see  what  a  man  wants  at  a 
children's  excursion." 

"  I'm  supposed  to  be  looking  at  the  vineyard,"  he  ex- 
plained. 

"  Oh,  indeed,  why  don't  you  look  at  it  then  ? "  was  the 
young  lady's  obvious  retort. 

"  I  prefer  looking  at  you,"  answered  the  journalist,  no 
whit  discomposed. 


1 76  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Carrie  found  herself  baffled,  and  was  constrained  to 
change  the  subject. 

"  Oh,  dear,  those  terrible  children,"  she  exclaimed  ; 
"  what  an  age  they  are  !  I  do  believe  they've  given  me  up." 

"  You  speak  as  if  you  were  an  intoxicant,"  remarked 
Ruggles,  smiling. 

"  Or  a  conundrum,"  she  retorted ;  "  which  am  I  ?  " 

"  Both,  I  think." 

"  Neither,  thank  you." 

The  conversation  languished  for  a  moment,  and  Carrie, 
discovering  that  a  trim  little  buttoned  gaiter  was  more 
visible  than  she  considered  it  ought  to  be,  drew  it  back 
under  the  protecting  muslin. 

"  I  suppose  those  children  are  looking  for  you," 
remarked  Ruggles,  as  the  young  voices  came  floating 
down  among  the  terraces. 

"  Yes,  the  poor  little  oafs,"  replied  Carrie,  "  in  every 
direction  but  the  right  one.  They  are  having  a  terrible 
search,  and  you  have  found  me  standing  still." 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  returned,  "  I  have  looked  for  you 
longer  than  any  of  them." 

"  Nonsense,"  she  exclaimed,  honestly  puzzled. 

"  No  nonsense  at  all,"  said  Jimmy.  "  I  met  you  in  San 
Francisco,  didn't  I  ?  " 

"  If  you  can  call  that  a  meeting,"  she  replied,  with  a 
laugh,  "  two  dances  and  one  ice  all  run  to  liquid." 

"  No  wonder,  I  was  trying  all  the  evening  to  melt  the 
ice,"  he  returned. 

"  Well,  apparently  you  succeeded." 

"  I  succeeded  so  far,"  rejoined  Ruggles,  "  that  I  dis- 
covered you  were  going  to  visit  friends  in  Southern 
California." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  1 77 

"  A  great  discovery,  truly,"  remarked  Miss  Van  Zandt, 
with  a  contemptuous  air  that  was,  perhaps,  a  little  over- 
done. 

"  That's  what  I  thought,"  responded  Jimmy,  "  and 
accordingly  I  set  to  work  to  convince  our  managing 
editor  that  the  Summons  had  too  long  neglected  a  great 
and  growing  industry  of  the  State." 

"  What  on  earth  has  that  to  do  with  me  ? "  asked 
Carrie,  opening  her  blue  eyes  in  unaffected  bewilderment. 

"It  was  three  days  after  I  met  you  at  the  ball  that  I 
was  detailed  to  write  up  the  vineyards,"  explained  the 
journalist. 

Carrie  could  not  help  looking  pleased,  though  she 
endeavored  to  conceal  it  by  an  affectation  of  incredulity. 

"  Not  really  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Do  you  mean  to  tell 
me  that  our  meeting  on  the  Orvietas  coach  was  not 
chance  ?  " 

"  No  more  than  our  meeting  at  San  Pablo,"  he  replied 
coolly. 

"  Well,  I'm  sure  !  "  exclaimed  Carrie. 

"  Are  you  ?     I  wish  I  were/' 

"Certainly,  you  Californians  are  the  most  extraordi- 
nary people,"  remarked  the  girl. 

"  So  you  see,"  went  on  Ruggles,  "  I  am  better  entitled 
to  find  you  than  any  of  those  children,  who  have  only 
been  looking  for  you  for  a  few  minntes." 

Miss  Van  Zandt  found  her  intrenchments  were  being 
carried  one  after  another  by  this  very  straightforward 
young  man.  She  tried  evasion. 

"  They  are  such  nice  children,  if  you  only  knew  them." 

"  And  I  am  such  a  nice  young  man,  if  you  only  knew 
me." 

12 


178  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  You  Californians  are  the  most  conceited  people  in 
the  world,"  retorted  Carrie,  falling  back  on  her  favorite 
formula. 

"  No  wonder,"  rejoined  Ruggles,  briskly  ;  "  look  at  the 
climate  we  live  in." 

"  Well,  you  didn't  make  it,"  said  the  girl. 

"  Granted,"  replied  the  journalist ;  "  but  we  advertise  it." ; 

This  calm  assumption  seemed  to  try  Miss  Van  Zandt's 
patience. 

"  That  is  just  like  you  again,"  she  remarked.  "  No 
one  ever  heard  a  New  Yorker  boast  of  his  climate." 

"For  obvious  and  sufficient  reasons,"  he  retorted. 
"  Who'd  boast  of  a  climate  where  the  thermometer 
ranges  from  ten  below  zero  to  one  hundred  in  the 
shade  ?  " 

"  Bother  the  thermometer  !  " 

"Certainly,"  acquiesced  Ruggles;  "when  I  lived  in] 
New  York  it  frequently  bothered  me." 

"  Have  you  ever  lived  in  New  York? "  she  asked  some- 
what surprised. 

He  nodded. 

"You  never  told  me  that,"  pursued  the  young  lady. 

"You  never  asked  me,"  he  replied. 

"  How  long  did  you  live  there  ?  "  inquired  Carrie. 

"  Off  and  on  for  about  twenty-six  years,"  he  answered 
with  exasperating  calmness. 

"  What  on  earth  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  Miss  Van 
Zandt,  mentally  endeavoring  to  subtract  a  quarter  of  a 
century  from  the  youthful  face  and  figure  before  her,  and 
considerably  puzzled  by  the  apparent  result. 

"  I  was  born  there,  and  there  I  lived  most  of  my  life," 
explained  Ruggles. 


JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Ruggles,"  said  Carrie,  rising  indignantly, 
"  I  call  that  real  mean.  How  dare  you  pose  as  a  genuine 
California!! — as  a — " 

"  As  a  product  of  the  glorious  climate  ?  "  interrupted  the 
journalist  laughing.  "  I  did  nothing  of  the  sort.  You 
included  me  in  your  criticism  of  '  you  Californians,'  and  I 
was  too  polite  to  contradict  a  lady." 

"  I've  a  great  mind  never  to  speak  to  you  again,"  said 
Carrie;  but  she  resumed  her  seat  in  her  vine-clad  nest. 

"Because  I'm  not  a  California!!  ? "  expostulated 
Jimmy.  "Don't  be  so  cruel.  I've  been  on  the  coast  for 
six  years  and  I  vote  here." 

The  voices  of  the  children,  which  had  floated  down  at 
intervals  from  the  upper  terraces,  now  sounded  nearer 
and  nearer.  The  little  ones  were  apparently  searching 
the  alley  in  which  Miss  Van  Zandt  was  hidden,  and  the 
shouts  and  laughter  swelled  in  volume  and  distinctness. 
The  pack  was  evidently  in  full  cry. 

"  Now  they'll  find  me  to  a  certainty,"  remarked  Carrie. 

"  Yes,  worse  luck,"  replied  Ruggles.  "  I  wonder  if 
I  couldn't  go  and  throw  them  off  on  a  false  scent  ? " 

"  You  mustn't  do  anything  of  the  sort.  They've  had  a 
long  search,  and  they  deserve  to  find  me,"  saicl  Carrie. 

Mr.  Ruggles  appeared  undecided  ;  but  the  next  mo- 
ment the  whole  band  appeared,  dashing  along  the  ter- 
race, and  led  by  young  Byrne. 

The  boy's  quick  eyes  detected  Miss  Van  Zandt's  light 
dress  in  an  instant. 

"There  she  is,  there  she  is,"  he  cried,  "and  she  isn't 
hidden  a  bit." 

"That's  because  she's  found,"  remarked  Ruggles  with 
a  superior  smile. 


1 80  JUD GE  L  YNCH. 

"Who  found  her  ?  "  cried  Pat  eagerly. 

"  I  had  that  pleasure,"  replied  the  journalist. 

Miss  Van  Zandt  dreaded  the  next  question,  and  when 
it  came  it  froze  her  with  horror. 

"  Have  you  kissed  her  yet?" 

"  Little  boy,  hold  your  tongue,"  cried  Carrie  indignantly. 

Ruggles  smothered  a  laugh  and  looked  mischievous. 

"  Is  that  part  of  the  game  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  That's  what  she  said,"  replied  the  unabashed  Pat. 
"  She  got  up  the  game." 

"  You  awful  child  !  "  exclaimed  Carrie.  "  If  you  say 
another  word  I'll  box  your  ears." 

"  Far  be  it  from  me  to  dispute  the  arrangements  of  the 
fair  mistress  of  the  revels,"  said  Ruggles,  advancing  a  step. 

"  Mr.  Ruggles !     How  dare  you  ?     That's  enough  !  " 

"But  I  haven't  begun  yet,"  replied  the  incorrigible 
Ruggles. 

Carrie  was  fairly  at  bay.  Her  cheeks  were  crimson 
and  she  had  drawn  back  as  far  as  she  could  into  the 
little  recess  among  the  vines.  It  was  an  embarrassing 
situation,  but  the  girl  was  so  fully  alive  to  its  ludicrous 
side  that  it  was  with  difficulty  she  could  command  her 
countenance  so  as  to  affect  anger,  and  any  attempt  at 
dignity  was  out  of  the  question. 

"You  naughty  children,"  she  cried  to  little  Pat  and  his 
companions,  who  had  formed  a  ring  outside  and  stood 
looking  on,  grinning  broadly,  "  there's  nothing  to  laugh 
at ;  "  and  as  she  said  it  she  laughed  herself. 

Ruggles  came  forward  into  the  arbor. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Ruggles,"  she  remonstrated,  "  I  shall  be 
very  angry." 

Mr.  Ruggles  caught  her  outstretched  hand  and  kissed  it. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  l8l 

"  I  must  be  content  to  compromise  on  this,"  he 
remarked. 

She  snatched  her  hand  indignantly  away, 

"  How  dare  you  ? "  she  cried.  "  What  do  you  take  me 
for  ?  " 

"  I'd  like  to  take  you  for  better  or  worse." 

He  was  very  close  to  her,  and  there  was  an  earnest 
ring  in  his  voice  and  a  serious  meaning  in  his  eyes  which 
did  not  escape  Miss  Van  Zandt.  Her  laugh  was  a  little 
forced  as  she  replied  : 

"  You'd  better  take  care  what  you  say,  or  I  may  take 
you  at  your  word." 

Ruggles  kept  up  the  fiction  of  jest,  but  the  graver 
emotion  showed  through  his  playfulness. 

"  You  have  wonderfully  taking  ways,  and  this  will  be 
the  happiest  day  of  my  life  if  they  will  really  lead  you  so 
far." 

Miss  Van  Zandt's  eyes  fell,  and  her  reply  was  inau- 
dible. Pat  looked  on  critically  from  a  little  distance. 

"  They're  sparking,"  he  remarked. 

"  Are  they  really  ?  "  inquired  Carmelita,  with  open- 
eyed  interest. 

"  You  bet  they  are,"  returned  young  Pat,  dogmatically. 
"  I  know.  By-and-by  when  I've  time  I'll  show  you  how 
it's  done.  Come  on  ;  let's  hide  and  seek  again.  We'll 
get  no  more  good  of  her  to-day." 

Young  Byrne  was  right.  Carrie  Van  Zandt's  interest 
in  the  picnic  was  over.  When  the  children  had  scattered 
again  among  the  terraces  she  walked  slowly  home  across 
the  vineyard  with  Ruggles,  and  the  westering  sun,  as  it 
bathed  the  foothills  with  its  radiance,  saw  no  happier 
couple  in  all  California. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  CUCKOO,"  cried  little  Carmelita,  peeping  out  between 
the  bars  of  the  heavy  gate.  She  had  selected  Mr. 
Byrne's  wine  vault  as  a  cool  and  altogether  suitable  hid- 
ing place,  and  had  crept  in.  pulling  the  grated  door 
behind  her.  Now  she  began  to  fear  that  she  had  been 
needlessly  successful  in  concealing  herself,  for  though  the 
terraces  resounded  with  the  children's  voices  no  one 
came  near  her.  She  did  not  wish  to  escape  detection — 
she  was  even  willing  to  be  found  soon,  especially  if  young 
Byrne  were  the  discoverer,  but  if  no  one  else  came  near 
her  where  was  the  fun  of  hiding  at  all  ? 

So  little  Carmelita  cried  "  Cuckoo  !  "  and  scanned  the 
limited  area  visible  from  her  lair  with  eager  eyes. 

The  first  figures  that  crossed  her  range  of  vision  were 
those  of  Field  and  Jeffries.  They  came  along  one  of  the 
terraces,  and  on  reaching  the  open  space  in  front  of  the 
vault  they  halted  and  looked  about  them. 

"  I  believe  that  young  Ruggles  has  gone  home," 
remarked  Field.  "  I've  been  over  half  the  vineyard  and 
seen  no  sign  of  him." 

"  Very  likely,"  replied  Jeffries,  indifferently.  "I  must 
get  the  children  together  now.  They're  to  have  tea  at 
the  overseer's  house,  and  go  home  from  there.  It's  time 
they  started." 

""Cuckoo,"  cried  Carmelita,  who  was  waxing  wofully 
impatient. 

182 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  183 

"They're  round  here  now,"  said  Field.  "I  heard  one 
of  them  just  then." 

Carmelita's  signal  had  at  last  reached  the  ears  it  was 
intended  for,  and  young  Byrne  dashed  into  the  glade  with 
half  a  dozen  youngsters  at  his  heels. 

"I  heard  her,"  shouted  Pat.  "She  must  be  round 
here  somewhere." 

"There's  Mr.  Jeffries,"  cried  another  boy.  "  Say,  Mr. 
Jeffries,  have  you  seen  Carmelita  ?  " 

"Shut  up!"  commanded  Pat.  "'Taint  fair  to  ask 
questions.  Every  one  for  himself.  That's  what  my  Pa 
says." 

The  children  scattered  among  the  vines  in  eager 
search,  but  were  soon  brought  back  by  a  view-halloo  from 
young  Pat. 

"  There  she  is  !  I've  found  her,  kids.  Come  out,  Car- 
melita." 

Carmelita,  nothing  loath,  attempted  to  obey  and  pushed 
with  all  her  strength  against  the  gate,  but  it  resisted  her 
efforts. 

"  I  can't,"  said  the  child.  "  I  can't  open  the 
door." 

"  Why,  you've  never  been  and  pulled  that  gate  to,  have 
you  ?  "  cried  Pat  with  evident  concern.  "  It  has  a  catch 
lock,  and  my  Pa  says  there  ain't  a  key  in  San  Pablo  will 
open  it,  except  his  own." 

This  discouraging  information  wrung  a  doleful  cry 
from  the  little  Mexican. 

"  Oh,  Pat,  let  me  out,  please,"  she  sobbed.  "  I'm 
afraid." 

Mr.  Jeffries  heard  the  cry  and  came  quickly  to  the 
gate. 


1 84  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Have  you  got 
shut  in,  Carmelita  ?  Don't  cry,  dear  ;  we'll  soon  get  you 
out." 

"  That  you  won't,  I'm  afraid,"  said  young  Pat.  "  No 
one  has  a  key  but  Pop." 

"  We  can  send  to  him  and  get  it,  can't  we  ?  "  asked 
Jeffries. 

"  But  he's  gone  to  San  Antonio,"  replied  the  boy. 

"  This  is  very  awkward,"  said  the  schoolmaster,  with 
added  gravity  of  manner.  "But  clearly  the  child  can't 
be  left  here  all  the  afternoon." 

"  Mr.  Byrne  may  not  have  started  yet,"  interposed 
Field.  "  He  was  on  his  way  to  the  overseer's  house  not 
a  great  while  ago." 

"  Run,  Byrne,  run,"  cried  Jeffries. 

"  Oh,  please  run,  and  run  fast,"  urged  Carmelita,  who 
had  been  listening  to  the  discussion  of  her  prospects  with 
very  intelligible  interest. 

Young  Pat  was  off  like  a  shot. 

"  Go  by  the  road,"  Field  shouted  after  him.  "If  he 
has  started  you  may  meet  him  before  he  passes  the  vine- 
yard gate." 

Jeffries  reached  through  the  bars  and  took  the  little 
prisoner's  hand  in  his. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  you  mustn't  fret  or  worry,"  he  said, 
very  gently  ;  "  you'll  get  out  in  a  few  minutes." 

"  But  if  I  don't  get  out,"  sobbed  Carmelita. 

"  Well,  if  you  don't,  I'll  stay  here  and  keep  you  com- 
pany till  you  do,"  replied  the  schoolmaster. 

"  And  tell  me  stories  ? "  asked  the  child  eagerly. 

"  If  you  like,"  he  answered. 

The  other  children  grouped  down  to  the  entrance  of 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  185 

ihe  vault.  Evidently,  Mr.  Jeffries'  narratives  were  pop- 
ular in  his  own  circle. 

"  Tell  us  the  story  of  the  wicked  man  who  let  his 
enemy  drown  and  was  haunted  by  his  ghost  every  night 
at  12  o'clock." 

Field  shouted  with  laughter. 

"  Eh,  schoolmaster,"  he  cried  ;  "  I  thought  I  sized  up 
your  pull  with  the  kids  pretty  near  right.  Go  ahead  with 
your  ghost  story.  The  last  new  one  you  were  telling  me 
was  a  corker." 

Hainan  Jeffries  evidently  did  not  like  the  interrup- 
tion. 

"Nonsense,  Field,"  he  said  brusquely;  "you  don't 
know  what  children  like  or  what's  fit  for  them  to  hear. 
I'll  tell  you  a  pretty  fairy  story,  my  dear." 

"  Then  I  pass,"  remarked  Field,  strolling  back  on  the 
terrace.  "  I've  no  use  for  fairy  tales." 

He  stopped  suddenly  and  called  back,  "  Here's  young 
Pat  coming  as  fast  as  he  can  lay  leg  to  the  ground. 
We'll  have  the  news  of  it  now." 

This  announcement  banished  all  desire  for  the  story 
from  Carmelita's  mind. 

"  Can  you  see  him  ? "  she  cried.  "Oh  look  !  Tell  mo, 
has  he  got  the  key  ?  " 

"  We'll  know  in  a  minute,  dear,"  said  the  schoolmaster, 
still  soothing  her. 

In  fact,  at  that  instant,  young  Pat  appeared,  wofully 
out  of  breath. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  panted  ;  "  I— found— Pop.  Met 
him  just  at  the  gate.  Two — seconds  more  and — he'd 
have  passed.  Brace  up,  Cannelita,  you'll  be  out — in  a — • 
minute." 


1 86  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  Well  done,  my  boy,"  said  Jeffries  patting  the  lad's 
shoulder.  "  You  ran  famously." 

"  There  ain't  another  kid  in  San  Pablo  can  live  with 
me  for  100  or  200  yards,"  said  the  youngster  proudly. 

Mr.  Byrne  now  came  into  sight,  moving  at  a  dignified 
pace.  He  walked  straight  up  to  the  vault  and  unlocking 
the  gate  released  the  little  girl,  who  was  immediately 
overwhelmed  with  congratulations  by  her  playfellows. 

"Now,  Carrnelita,"  said  young  Pat ;  "I  found  you,  you 
know,"  and  he  forthwith  exacted  the  stipulated  forfeit, 
which  the  little  maid  rendered  willingly  enough. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  and  you  found  your  Pa  to  let  me 
out.  You  may  have  another  for  that." 

Pat  took  the  proffered  reward  while  his  father  lectured 
the  schoolmaster  on  the  misadventure. 

"  Wid  all  due  submission  to  you,  Mr.  Jeffries,  I'd  keep 
the  children  out  o'  that  vault  av  I  were  in  your  place. 
Another  minute  or  two  and  I'd  be  half  a  mile  on  the  road 
to  San  Antonio,  and  how'd  you  have  got  the  poor -child 
out  thin,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 

"It  was  an  accident,  sir,"  explained  Jeffries.  "It 
shan't  occur  again." 

"  I  want  the  dure  left  open,  anyhow,"  pursued  the  Hon. 
Pat,  "  for  the  place  is  empty,  an'  this  slack  time's  a  good 
chance  o'  gettin'  it  claned  out.  But  the  vineyard's  big, 
an*  yez  can  find  some  other  part  to  play  in.  D'ye  mind 
that,  Pat  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  his  son. 

"  You'll  be  goin't  to  tay  soon,  anyhow,"  pursued  Mr. 
Byrne,  consulting  his  watch.  "  It's  risin'  five  o'clock." 

"  I  am  a  thousand  times  obliged  for  the  trouble  you 
have  taken,  Mr.  Byrne,"  said  Jeffries  with  a  bow. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  187 

"  Ye're  entirely  welcome,"  answered  the  Hon.  Pat. 
"  Only  kape  the  young  ones  away  from  here.  It  was 
wan  chance  in  tin  Pat  cot  me,  an'  av  he  hadn't  the  little 
girl  might  ha'  stayed  here  all  night." 

At  this  appalling  possibility  Carmelita  set  up  a  terrified 
howl. 

"  Sooner  than  that  should  have  happened,"  remarked 
Jeffries,  "  I  think  I  would  have  taken  it  upon  myself  to 
have  the  vault  broken  open." 

"  And  ye'd  have  found  that  same  no  aisy  job,"  retorted 
the  Hon.  Pat.  It's  built  as  strong  as  stone  and  cimmint 
can  mek  it,  an'  ye  can  see  what  the  gate  is  fer  yersilf. 
Howsumever,  the  little  girl's  on  the  right  side  of  it  now, 
an'  it'll  be  her  own  fault  av  she  gits  on  the  wrong  side  of 
it  agin." 

He  returned  the  key  to  his  pocket  and  joined  Field, 
who  still  lingered  on  the  terrace,  stopping  to  chuck  Car- 
melita under  the  chin  as  he  passed,  and  recommend  her 
to  keep  out  of  mischief  for  the  future.  As  he  turned 
away  Mr.  Jeffries  called  on  the  children  for  three  cheers 
in  honor  of  Mr.  Byrne,  which  were  given  with  a  will,  the 
youngsters  remembering  the  feast  of  grapes  they  had 
enjoyed  during  the  day,  as  well  as  his  recent  service  to 
one  of  their  number. 

The  Hon.  Pat,  to  whose  nostrils  the  incense  of  applause 
and  popularity  was  infinitely  sweet,  let  it  come  from 
what  quarter  it  would,  paused  and  raised  his  hat  with 
elaborate  courtesy,  before  descending  the  terraces  with 
Field  toward  the  vineyard  entrance.  Young  Pat,  who 
felt  himself  the  hero  of  the  moment  in  a  degree  second 
only  to  his  father,  imitated  the  old  gentleman's  gesture  of 
acknowledgment  with  a  ludicrous  precision  which  caused 


1 88  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

the  schoolmaster  to  smile,  and  set  all  the  children  cheer- 
ing again. 

"Now,  young  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  cried  Jeffries  in 
his  official  tone,  "it  is  nearly  five  o'clock,  and  we  have 
half  a  mile  to  walk  to  the  overseer's  house  for  tea.  Fall 
in,  if  you  please." 

There  was  a  little  reluctance  as  the  youngsters  pre- 
pared to  turn  their  backs  on  the  unwonted  pleasures  of 
the  vineyard,  but  not  much ;  for  though  Jeffries  was  very 
popular  among  them,  his  discipline  was  good,  and  the 
children  knew  when  an  order  was  intended  to  be  obeyed. 
They  formed  in  ranks  as  they  had  marched  to  the  picnic, 
a  dusty,  tired,  happy  band.  The  schoolmaster  delegated 
Pat  Byrne  to  precede  the  line,  as  he  was  thoroughly 
familiar  with  the  various  terraces,  which  the  majority 
of  the  children  were  not.  The  boy  accepted  the  office 
with  no  small  pride,  and  reviewed  his  charges  critic- 
ally. 

"Dress  to  the  front,  Harry  Smith.  If  I'm  going  to 
lead  this  gang,  this  gang  has  got  to  look  like  some- 
thing. Tie  your  shoe,  Mamie  Dollett.  Do  you  suppose 
I'm  going  to  have  any  such  scarecrow  as  you  walking 
through  my  Pop's  vineyard?  Now,  come  along,  all 
together." 

Young  Byrne  had  a  fair  alto  voice,  and  he  struck 
up  the  military  song,  "Marching  Through  Georgia." 
The  children  took  their  time  from  him  and  moved 
off  along  the  terrace,  keeping  step  to  the  inspiring 
strains. 

Jeffries  lingered  a  moment  and  watched  the  little 
column  defile  along  the  leafy  path.  The  fresh,  young 
voices  sounded  pleasantly  on  the  summer  air;  the  sun 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  189 

was  resting  broad  and  bright  on  the  western  slope  of  the 
foothills,  and  the  mounting  terraces,  with  their  lines  of 
luxuriant  vegetation,  spangled  with  the  purple  and  crim- 
son of  the  ripe  grapes,  shimmered  in  the  afternoon  heat. 
The  world  seemed  a  fair  place,  even  to  Haman  Jeffries, 
who  still  wrestled  vaguely  with  the  dark  doubt  that  had 
come  to  him  with  the  early  morning.  It  was  just  twelve 
hours  since  he  had  seen  Richard  Morley's  ghost  on  the 
rocky  platform  whence  the  murderer's  bullet  had  hurled 
him.  The  spectre  had  never  left  Haman  Jeffries  through 
the  long  hours  of  that  day  of  pleasure  and  merrymaking. 
Its  denouncing  words  had  never  ceased  to  ring  in  his 
ears.  Since  dawn  he  had  moved  and  spoken  like  a  man 
in  a  dream.  Those  around  him  had  noticed  nothing. 
The  schoolmaster  seemed  to  them  the  schoolmaster  they 
had  always  known — visionary,  fantastic,  unaccountable. 
But  Jeffries  himself,  after  an  effort  to  reconcile  the  appa- 
rition with  the  living  world  through  the  medium  of  that 
wonderful  resemblance  which  every  one  told  him  Rtiggles 
bore  to  the  murdered  man,  abandoned  the  attempt  in 
despair.  A  voice  from  the  grave  had  spoken  to  him ;  a 
cry  from  the  world  of  spirits  had  reached  him.  Dick 
Morley  dead  had  stepped  between  Haman  and  Kate  with 
a  vigor  and  authority  which  Dick  Morley  living  had  never 
assumed.  To  a  man  of  Jeffries'  beliefs  and  tendencies  to 
realize  this  was  to  realize  despair,  and  yet  he  could  not 
give  up  Kate. 

Fate  was  dealing  hardly  by  him  for  the  moment,  but 
his  destiny — the  destiny  which  he  believed  in — must 
triumph  in  the  end. 

The  clear  voices  of  the  children  floated  to  him  on  the 
evening  air.  He  roused  himself  with  an  impatient  start ; 


190  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

the  duties  of  the  moment  claimed  him.  He  turned  to  fol- 
low, but  was  stopped  by  a  figure  which  stepped  down  on 
the  terrace  from  among  the  vines  and  laid  a  detaining 
hand  on  his  arm. 

"  Mr.  Jeffries,  a  word  with  you,"  said  Jack  Scott. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

KATE  MORLEY  sat  in  her  lonely  home,  weary  and  dis- 
pirited. The  day  was  very  long  to  her — longer  than  the 
night  had  been ;  and  the  echoes  of  mirth  and  light- 
hearted  talk  that  reached  her  as  the  merrymakers  passed 
the  house  on  their  way  to  the  picnic  were  in  sad  contrast 
to  her  dark  thoughts. 

She  had  arranged  all  her  plans.  Mr.  Smith  had 
agreed  to  take  the  contents  of  the  store  off  her  hands  at 
a  valuation,  and  she  was  ready  to  leave  San  Pablo  on  the 
following  day.  There  was  nothing  to  detain  her  but  her 
husband's  funeral,  which  was  to  take  place  on  the  mor- 
row ;  and  her  anxiety  about  Scott  and  his  fate  would  be 
decided  by  midnight.  Life  looked  very  dull  and  leaden- 
hued  to  her  as  she  sat  and  listened  to  the  children's 
voices  while  the  merry  groups  raced  up  the  road ;  and 
she  found  a  melancholy  satisfaction  in  the  reflection 
which  often  occurred  to  her  that  in  all  human  probability 
her  clays  could  not  be  very  long  in  the  service  to  which 
she  had  devoted  herself.  A  nurse  in  the  Memphis 
yellow  fever  hospitals !  It  was  almost  a  sentence  of 
death,  and  as  such  Kate  welcomed  it. 

The  position  of  Jack  Scott  occasioned  her  far  more 
anxiety  than  did  her  own.  It  never  occurred  to  Mrs. 
Morley  to  doubt  that  the  vigilantes,  whom  she  had  seen 
only  in  their  attitude  of  grim  determination  as  they 
marched  to  their  vengeance,  could  relent  and  leave  their 

191 


1 92  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

purpose  unfulfilled.  Byrne  and  many  others  were  of 
opinion  that,  having  once  released  their  prey,  the 
avengers  would  scarcely  renew  their  passion  and  proceed 
to  extremes,  but  Kate  did  not  know  this.  She  never 
doubted  that  Jack's  life  would  be  forfeited  if,  within  the 
narrow  and  fast-vanishing  margin  of  time  allowed  him,  he 
did  not  produce  the  murderer.  So  she  sat  and  pondered 
how  she  could  help  him — sometimes  weeping,  sometimes 
praying,  and  often  crimson  with  shame  and  mortification  as 
she  asked  herself  why  young  Scott  filled  so  large  a  space 
in  her  thoughts.  She  would  not  acknowledge  that  she 
loved  him.  Her  womanly  pride  fought  clown  the  idea  as 
often  as  it  arose,  but  she  could  not  quell  the  bursts  of  unac- 
knowledged tenderness  that  swept  over  her  as  she 
recalled  his  many  deeds  of  kindness,  his  uniformly  chival- 
rous respect  for  her  unhappy  position,  his  manly,  honest 
face  which  she  had  always  seen  set  unflinchingly  toward 
the  right.  Jack  Scott  was  the  hero  of  Kate's  heart,  even 
if  he  had  been  thrust  down  from  the  pinnacle  as  hero  of 
San  Pablo. 

The  laughter  of  the  picnic  parties  died  away,  and  the 
road  was  deserted  as  the  afternoon  wore  on,  and  still 
Kate  sought  for  some  means  to  save  the  man  she  loved — 
the  man  whom  she  knew  could  never  be  hers,  since  his 
heart  had  long  since  been  laid  at  the  feet  of  Lucy.  And 
yet  there  was  no  sacrifice  Kate  Morley  would  have  shrunk 
from  if  she  could  thereby  have  cleared  Scott's  name  and 
freed  him  from  peril.  She  was  sure,  with  a  conviction 
nothing  could  shake,  that  Haman  Jeffries  had  shot  her 
husband,  but  it  was  not  enough  to  know  this  thing — she 
must  prove  it. 

This  man— this   Jeffries— how  she  shuddered   at   the 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  193 

thought  of  him — loved  her  in  his  own  crazed  fashion. 
She  wondered  if  she  could  play  Delilah  to  this  monstrous 
Samson.  Even  this  she  would  have  done  to  save  Jack's 
life.  But  she  felt  rather  than  knew  that  the  sacrifice 
would  be  useless.  Even  if  her  nerve  did  not  fail  her  in 
the  ordeal,  Haman  Jeffries  was  not  the  man  to  let  a  vital 
secret  escape  him.  He  would  preach  fate  and  claim  her 
in  right  of  predestination,  swearing  that  all  had  been 
appointed  beforehand,  and  that  there  was  nothing  to  call 
for  acknowledgment  or  reward. 

The  test  whereby  she  had  hoped  Jeffries'  conscience 
would  be  terrified  into  self-betrayal  had  failed.  A 
dreamer  of  dreams  and  a  seer  of  visions  had  beheld  an 
apparition  and  had  been  stricken  senseless  at  the  sight. 
How  could  she  hope  to  find  in  those  rude  villagers  the 
profound  psychology  which  would  trace  the  line  between 
guilt  and  terror  ?  She  could  not  determine  it  herself, 
save  through  the  intention  supplied  by  her  conviction. 
She  let  her  hands  fall  on  her  lap  with  a  weary  sigh. 

Presently  she  started  to  her  feet.  The  sun  was  low 
and  the  shadow  of  the  chaparral  stretched  almost  into 
the  gully.  Kate  accused  herself  of  wasting  time.  If  all 
Jack's  friends  were  to  spend  the  precious  hours  of  his 
reprieve  in  purposeless  wanderings,  what  chance  had  he 
of  escape  ?  She  would  go  to  work.  She  would  try  some- 
thing— anything — everything,  while  it  was  yet  day.  She 
caught  up  her  hat  and,  fastening  the  door  behind,,  took 
the  road  to  the  village. 

It  had  been  a  long  and  anxious  day  for  Lucy,  too,  at 
the  San  Pablo  House.  Carrie  found  her  friend  in  no 
receptive  mood  for  the  important  confidence  she  had  to 
bestow,  and  sought  her  own  room  to  enjoy  her  bright 

13 


194  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

day-dreams  in  solitude.  Mr.  Starkweather  had  been 
restless  and  irritable,  complaining  of  the  doctor's  folly  in 
keeping  him  in  bed  when  there  was  no  necessity.  He 
was  anxious  to  get  up  and  do  something,  and  he  twitted 
Lucy  with  showing  small  regard  for  her  affianced  hus- 
band, since  she  remonstrated  with  her  father  for  wishing 
to  get  up  and  help  him.  Mr.  Starkweather  also  failed  to 
understand  why  Jack  had  not  called  to  see  him,  and  here 
Lucy  was  at  once  with  him.  She  confessed  to  herself 
that  it  would  have  been  very  pleasant  if  the  young  fellow 
had  only  looked  in,  but  he  had  not  appeared  and  Miss 
Starkweather  was  fain  to  make  the  best  of  it. 

Toward  5  o'clock  the  sheriff  would  be  gainsayed  no 
longer,  but  rose  and  dressed  himself,  and  Dr.  Meares, 
who  was  hastily  summoned  by  the  alarmed  Lucy  when 
her  father's  stubbornness  passed  beyond  her  control,  con- 
fessed that  he  seemed  none  the  worse  for  the  change. 

Another  battle  ensued  when  Mr.  Starkweather  called 
for  his  hat  and  insisted  on  going  out,  and  here,  too,  Lucy 
would  have  been  forced  to  succumb  had  not  a  sudden 
diversion  been  made  in  her  favor  by  the  appearance  of 
Mrs.  Morley. 

Kate  was  anxious  and  disquieted,  and  soon  communi- 
cated her  misgivings  to  the  sheriff,  who  was  little  accus- 
tomed to  inaction  when  anything  of  importance  required 
attention.  He  had  hoped  that  Mrs.  Morley  brought 
some  news  of  Scott,  and  when  he  found  this  was  not  the 
case  he  became  the  more  set  in  his  determination  to  go 
and  see  for  himself.  So,  after  further  ineffectual  remon- 
strance from  Lucy,  he  left  the  hotel,  and  the  two  women 
remained  together. 

It  was  now  almost  dark,  and  the  plaza  wore  its  custom- 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  195 

ary  evening  aspect.  The  picnic  was  over,  and  the  chil- 
dren had  dispersed  to  their  homes,  while  every  store 
front  and  veranda  had  its  knot  of  men  smoking,  chatting, 
and  idling  in  the  twilight.  Starkweather  sought  for  Mr. 
Byrne,  but  learned  that  he  had  gone  to  San  Antonio 
earlier  in  the  afternoon,  and  was  not  expected  back  till 
the  next  day.  The  Spread  Eagle  was  open,  however, 
and  doing  its  regular  trade,  but  neither  there  nor  else- 
where could  the  sheriff  obtain  any  recent  information  of 
Jack  Scott  or  his  movements.  Indeed,  he  soon  ceased 
his  inquiries  when  he  found  that  their  only  result  was  to 
intensify  a  sullen,  suspicious  spirit  in  the  men. 

The  town  was  much  quieter  than  it  had  been  on  the 
previous  evening,  but  it  was  evident  that  some  influence 
inimical  to  young  Scott  was  in  the  air  and  doing  silent, 
secret  work  against  him.  Gradually  the  groups  grew 
together,  and  when  it  spread  abroad,  as  it  quickly  did, 
that  no  one  had  seen  Jack  for  several  hours,  muttered 
oaths  were  heard  and  dark  scowls  settled  on  bearded 

|  faces.  '  The  avengers,  who  had  been  quiet  all  day,  grew 
fiercer  as  the  impression  was  borne  in  upon  them  that 

\  they  had  been  tricked  and  deceived.     Before  9  o'clock 
the  conviction  was  general  that  Jack  Scott  had  forfeited 

•  his  parole  and  had  fled  across  the  mountains. 

Inquiries  were  made  at  the  livery  stable  and  from  such 
as  owned  horses,  but  it  could  not  be  ascertained  that 
either  steed  or  wagon  was  missing,  except  Mr.  Byrne's 

I  pair  of  bays  with  which  he  had  driven  to  San  Antonio. 

\  The  impression  had  prevailed  at  first  that  the  Hon.  Pat 

^  had  conveyed  the  accused  man  out  of  town,  but  Field, 

I  who  had  seen  his  employer  start  from  the  vineyard,  as- 
serted that  he  had  gone  alone.     So  the  vigilantes  roamed 


196  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

about  the  town,  inflaming  their  passions  with  strong 
drink,  and  unhesitatingly  searching  any  house  or  place 
where  they  thought  there  was  a  possibility  that  the  fugi- 
tive might  lurk.  At  each  fresh  disappointment  their 
anger  rose,  and  the  temper  of  the  men  was  rapidly  mount- 
ing to  the  murderous  pitch  of  the  night  before. 

The  dark  form  of  Jeffries  flitted  from  group  to  group, 
and  Starkweather  readily  detected  his  influence  in  the 
tone  of  the  remarks  that  reached  his  ear. 

"  I  wish  Jack  Scott  would  show  himself,  if  it  were  only 
for  five  minutes,"  the  sheriff  muttered  aloud,  as  he  turned 
from  the  Spread  Eagle,  where  he  had  been  listening  for  a 
few  moments  to  the  remarks  of  those  within. 

"The  best  thing  for  him,  you  bet,"  said  a  voice,  answer- 
ing the  thought  which  Sam  Starkweather  was  hardly  con- 
scious of  having  spoken.  "  If  Jack  has  tried  to  dodge 
this  committee  and  slips  up  now,  it  will  be  all  day  with 
him." 

The  sheriff  turned  and  saw  Judge  Boone  at  his  elbow. 

"  I'm  mighty  glad  to  see  you  out  and  around  again, 
Sam,  went  on  the  judge.  "I  tell  you,  it  gave  me- a  turn 
I  won't  get  over  in  a  hurry,  when  I  saw  you  keel  over 
last  night.'' 

"  More  by  good  luck  than  by  good  guidance  that  I 
didn't  keel  over  for  good  and  all,"  returned  the  sheriff. 
"  Now,  look  here,  Boone,"  he  went  on ;  "  I'm  willing  to 
overlook  what  happened  last  night,  as  no  harm  came  of 
it ;  but  if  there's  any  more  of  it — I  know  the  names  of 
the  biggest  half  of  that  gang,  and  I'll  jail  every  mother's 
son  of  you,  as  sure  as  there's  law  in  California." 

Boone  laughed  lightly. 

"Ye'll  have  to  build  a  fence  around  San  Pablo  and 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  197 

jail  the  whole  town,"  he  said,  "  for  we're  all  in  it.  But  I 
don't  suppose  there'll  be  much  trouble.  Jack's  made 
tracks — there  can't  be  a  doubt  of  it.  I  didn't  believe  it 
of  the  young  fellow  ;  but  life's  a  stake  worth  stacking  the 
cards  for,  I  guess." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  has  gone,"  returned  the  sheriff. 
"At  any  rate,  no  one  has  a  right  to  say  he  is  till  11:30 
this  night :  but  if  he  is  gone — do  you  know  what  you  and 
the  rest  have  left  yourselves  liable  to,  Boone  ?" 

"  No  ;  'tain't  no  fault  of  ours,  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  judge. 

"  You've  interfered  with  an  officer  of  the  law  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duty  and  set  his  prisoner  at  liberty  ; 
that's  what  you've  done,"  returned  the  sheriff,  and  having 
fired  his  parting  shot  he  sheered  off  without  waiting  for  a 
return. 

Judge  Boone  watched  him  as  he  moved  across  the 
plaza — a  tall,  erect,  stalwart  figure,  emphatically  a  man, 
whom  such  men  could  not  but  respect. 

"He's  clear  grit,"  muttered  the  judge  with  a  smile  on 
his  lips  and  an  almost  affectionate  expression  in  his 
eyes ;  "  he's  sand  right  through — darn  me  if  he  ain't." 

And  with  this  tribute  to  Starkweather's  virtues,  Boone 
passed  in  and  joined  the  group  at  the  bar  of  the  Spread 
Eagle. 

So  the  night  wore  away.  Haman  Jeffries  was  untiring 
in  his  canvass  ;  going  from  one  knot  of  men  to  another, 
and  pointing  out  with  all  the  eloquence  at  his  command, 
the  black  ingratitude  and  treachery  of  which  Jack  had 
been  guilty  in  breaking  his  word.  Field  and  Smith  were 
equally  indefatigable.  Boone  appeared  to  have  lost  all 
interest  in  the  proceedings.  He  had  tacitly  resigned  his 
position  as  leader,  and  seemed  content  to  be  a  looker  on. 


198  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

The    sheriff's   narrow   escape    the    previous    night   had 
sobered  him. 

Sheriff  Starkweather  returned  to  the  hotel,  and  his 
anxious,  harassed  looks  did  not  escape  the  notice  of  Kate 
Morley  and  his  daughter  ;  but  he  evaded  their  questions 
for  some  time.  At  length,  when  Lucy  had  left  the  room 
for  a  few  minutes,  he  gave  Kate,  whom  he  regarded  as  a 
comparatively  uninterested  party,  his  view  of  the  situa- 
tion. 

"The  mob  is  getting  to  be  as  bad  as  it  was  last  night, 
if  not  worse.  Hainan  Jeffries  and  others  have  been 
working  it  up,  and  they've  done  it  to  the  Queen's  taste. 
If  Jack  Scott's  in  San  Pablo  to-night,  I'm  afraid  he's  no 
better  than  a  dead  man.  If  he's  cleared  out,  of  course — 
but  I  don't  think  he  has.  He's  acted  like  a  blank  fool  in 
lying  low  and  sneaking  away  like  this.  If  he'd  come 
forward  and.  mix  with  the  boys  and  talk  the  thing  over 
freely,  I  don't  believe  they'd  have  got  six  men  in  the 
town  to  lay  a  hand  on  him — but  it's  too  late  now." 

Lucy  returned,  and  Sam,  laying  his  finger  on  his  lips 
intimated  to  Kate  that  what  he  had  told  her  was  not 
intended  for  his  daughter's  ears.  But  the  sheriff's  view 
of  the  case  had  produced  little  impression  on  Mrs. 
Morley.  From  the  first  she  had  never  entertained  the 
possibility  of  the  mob's  relenting,  and  at  this  moment  she 
was  happier  and  more  hopeful  than  she  had  been  during 
the  whole  day. 

An  idea  had  suddenly  occurred  to  her.     She  fancied 
she  saw  the    dim    outlines   of   a  plan   by  which   Jack's 
innocence  might  be  established  and  his  life  preserved.  • 
The  execution  of  her  scheme  called  for  a  certain  sacrifice 
on   her   own   part,  but   Kate    did   not   heed   that.     She 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  199 

rather  gloried  in  it.  If  young  Scott  were  to  be  saved, 
she  would  prefer  that  he  should  be  saved  at  her  expense. 

And  so  the  evening  passed,  the  sheriff  going  out  every 
half  hour  or  so,  but  always  returning  shortly  and  with  an 
added  gloom  in  his  manner. 

A  little  before  1 1  o'clock,  the  avengers  formed  in  line 
and  started,  under  the  leadership  of  Field  and  Smith,  to 
keep  their  ghastly  tryst  with  Jack  Scott  at  Lone  Pine 
Knob. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

IF  Sheriff  Starkweather  had  crossed  Mr.  Byrne's  vine- 
yard a  few  hours  earlier  he  would  have  been  at  no  loss  to 
account  for  Jack  Scott's  non-appearance  that  night  in  the 
village.  The  picnic  party  in  ordered  ranks,  had  started 
for  the  overseer's  house  under  young  Pat's  guidance. 
The  voices  of  the  children  swelled  across  the  summer 
evening  in  the  stirring  cadence  of  their  military  march ; 
the  westering  sun,  as  it  sank  lower,  darted  level  beams 
over  the  patches  of  shadow  which  lay  beneath  the  vines, 
and  the  intrusive  light  fell  on  Juan  Estudillo's  closed 
eyelids  and  caused  him  to  stir  in  his  sleep. 

Very  faintly  through  the  distance  came  the  low, 
monotonous  boom  of  the  Pacific,  moaning  far  below  on 
its  yellow  sands,  and  the  vineyard  on  the  foothills  looked 
as  solitary  and  deserted,  and  as  peaceful  and  beautiful 
as  Eden  may  have  seemed  when  man  was  driven  from 
the  gates. 

Deserted,  save  for  Juan  muttering  in  his  dreams  and 
striving  unconsciously  to  turn  his  head  from  the  light, 
and  burrow  deeper  into  the  recess  where  he  lay  hidden  ; 
solitary  save  for  those  two  men  who  stood  gazing  into 
each  other's  eyes,  as  gladiators  may  have  gazed  before 
closing  for  the  death  grapple. 

For  Jack  Scott's  touch  as  he  laid  a  detaining  hand  on 
the  schoolmaster's  arm ;  the  tone  of  his  voice  as  he 
uttered  the  simple  phrase,  "  Mr.  Jeffries,  a  word  with 

200 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  2OI 

you,"  seemed  to  have  turned  the  other  for  a  moment  to 
stone. 

With  a  visible  effort  Haman  recovered  himself  and 
shook  off  Jack's  hand  as  he  might  have  shaken  off  a 
noxious  reptile. 

"  I  hold  no  communication  with  people  of  your  charac- 
ter. Out  of  my  way,  sir." 

He  attempted  to  push  past,  but  Jack  still  barred  the 
way. 

"  Oh,  Jeffries,  Jeffries,"  cried  Scott  in  a  tone  half  ban- 
tering, half  sorrowful,  "  take  care  what  you  are  saying." 

"  And  why  should  I  care  ?  "  demanded  the  school- 
master, his  pale  cheek  flushing  for  a  moment  as  if  stung 
by  the  other's  words. 

"  Because,"  pursued  Jack  in  the  same  tone  ;  "  because 
I  am  accused  of  murder." 

"  An  excellent  reason  for  avoiding  your  society.  Stand 
aside,  sir." 

"And  I  am  innocent,"  Jack  continued,  foiling  by  his 
mere  attitude  the  other's  attempt  to  withdraw. 

"  So  you  say,"  retorted  Jeffries. 

"  I  do  more  than  say  it,"  replied  Jack.  "  I  shall  soon 
prove  it,  for  I  know  the  guilty  man." 

Jeffries  was  visibly  startled. 

"  You  know — pshaw  !  I  do  not  believe  you,"  he  added, 
recovering  himself. 

"  I  do  not  lie,  as  you  well  know,"  returned  Jack,  speak- 
ing slowly  and  with  concentrated  force,  so  that  the  words 
fell  one  by  one  on  Jeffries'  ears  and  seemed  each  to  make 
its  separate  impression  on  his  brain ;  "  and  I  say  to  you 
now  that  from  beginning  to  end  you  have  been  my  worst 
enemy." 


202  JUDGE  L  YNCH. 

"  What  if  I  have  ? "  broke  in  Jeffries  passionately,  as  if 
losing  all  control  of  himself ;  "  what  if  I  have  ?  Have 
you  not  come  between  me  and  the  dearest  desire  of  my 
heart  ?  Have  not  you  stepped  between  me  and  the  sun- 
shine of  my  life,  lightly,  wantonly,  for  no  benefit  or  advan- 
tage to  yourself  ?  You  have  made  ruin  of  a  soul  that  you 
cannot  even  understand,  and  for  that — for  that,  mark  you 
— not  for  the  death  of  that  poor  drunkard,  you  shall 
hang." 

Very  faintly,  very  sweetly,  the  chorus  of  the  children 
floated  down  the  terraces  and  filled  the  momentary  pause 
that  followed  the  schoolmaster's  vehement  denuncia- 
tion. 

"  What  have  I  done  to  you  ?  What  do  you  mean  ? " 
inquired  Jack,  perplexed  and  startled  by  the  unmistak- 
able ring  of  sincerity  in  the  man's  voice. 

But  Jeffries'  mood  had  changed. 

"  Let  me  pass  ;  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you,"  he  said, 
sullenly. 

"  But  I  have  much  to  say  to  you,"  retorted  Scott,  com- 
ing closer  to  him.  "  Look  me  in  the  eye,  Haman 
Jeffries  !  Now  accuse  me  of  the  murder  of  that  man  if 
you  dare !  " 

The  schoolmaster  shrank  back,  apparently  cowed  by 
the  other's  threatening  manner. 

"  It  is  not  I  who  accuse  you,"  he  muttered ;  "  blame 
the  evidence,  not  me.  Look  at  the  quarrel,  the  place, 
the  pistol — 

"  Liar  and  coward,"  shouted  Jack.  "  You  are  my 
most  persistent  accuser  and  I  will  tell  you  why.  The 
blood  of  the  victim  is  crying  aloud  for  vengeance  and 
you  dare  not  rest  till  that  cry  is  satisfied.  For  it  was 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  203 

your  hand,  Hainan  Jeffries,  and  none  other,  that  took 
Richard  Morley's  life." 

The  schoolmaster  started  violently,  and  the  blood 
rushed  to  his  face,  and  then  ebbing  left  it  ghastly  white. 
He  clutched  convulsively  at  his  throat  and  made  two  or 
three  efforts  to  speak  before  the  words  would  come. 

"  I — I — "  he  gasped,  and  then  collecting  himself  with 
a  visible  effort  he  screamed  shrilly  :  "  You  lie  !  " 

"  I  do  not  lie,"  retorted  Jack.  "  Do  you  think  no  eye 
but  God's  saw  you  when  you  grovelled  in  terror  before 
the  phantom  your  own  guilty  conscience  had  conjured 
up  ?  Did  you  suppose  there  was  no  human  ear  to  listen 
to  your  self-accusing  words  ?  " 

"  What  did  I  say  ?  "  demanded  Jeffries  eagerly,  and 
then,  recollecting  himself,  he  went  on  more  boldly.  "  I 
did  not  utter  a  word.  What  trick  is  this  ?  This  is  the 
foundation  of  your  attack  on  me,  is  it?  Why,  every  man 
in  San  Pablo  knows  that  my  nerves  are  weak.  That  is 
no  hanging  matter,  I'm  sure.  I  met  Mr.  Morley's  cousin 
unexpectedly  and  was  startled — terrified,  if  you  will,  as 
every  other  man  has  been  who  has  had  an  opportunity  to 
notice  the  extraordinary  resemblance.  Is  this  the  tale 
you  will  carry  to  the  vigilantes  ?  Am  I  the  murderer 
you  will  produce  in  your  place  ?  Are  those  the  proofs  of 
my  crime  ?  Why,  man,  they  will  laugh  at  you." 

Jack  was  shaken  for  a  moment  by  this  fluent  exposure 
of  the  plan  on  which  he  counted  so  much,  but  as  Jeffries 
repeated,  "  they  will  laugh  at  you,"  himself  laughing  as 
if  in  prophetic  sympathy,  the  young  fellow  recovered  suffi- 
ciently to  reply  resolutely : 

"  I  do  not  think  so." 

"Try  it  if  you  like,"  went  on  the  schoolmaster;  "  but  I 


204  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

will  discount  your  story.  I  will  tell  them  myself  of  the 
supposed  apparition  and  my  terror.  They  will  have  a 
good  laugh  at  poor  Ham  Jeffries,  who  thought  he  saw  a 
ghost ;  but  you,"  he  added  with  vindictive  emphasis, 
"  you  will  hang." 

"  I  do  not  think  so,"  repeated  Jack,  stoutly. 

"Perhaps  you  mean  to  forfeit  your  word,"  sneered 
Jeffries.  "  The  appointment  at  Lone  Pine  Knob  is  still 
seven  hours  off.  Perhaps  your  heart  is  failing  you." 

"  I  shall  keep  the  appointment,"  Jack  replied  with 
perfect  calmness  ;  "  with  the  murderer  or  without  him." 

"  Then  I  shall  see  you  there,"  said  Jeffries,  exultantly. 

"  You  shall,"  cried  Jack,  "  and  you  shall  hear  me  tell 
the  committee  all  I  know  and  all  I  suspect.  They  shall 
have  my  version  of  the  apparition  you  now  affect  to  ridi- 
cule. I  shall  tell  them  in  more  detail  the  story  of  the 
pistol,  as  I  had  it  from  Morley.  I  shall  accuse  you  of 
the  murder,  and  I  shall  call  on  Mrs.  Morley  to  testify  to 
the  motive." 

Scott's  last  words  were  wrung  from  him  by  his  desire 
to  make  his  case  as  complete  as  possible  in  the  school- 
master's eyes,  and  had  no  other  foundation  than  his  rec- 
ollection of  what  Kate  had  said  when  the  little  group 
had  watched  for  the  dawn  in  the  house  on  the  plateau, 
and  they  had  endeavored  to  connect  Jeffries  with  the 
crime. 

"  He  had  a  motive — what  men  call  a  strong  motive," 
Mrs.  Morley  had  said,  and  with  the  memory  of  those 
words  strong  in  him  Jack  threatened  to  call  her  as  a  wit- 
ness. He  did  not  expect  to  gain  much  by  this  menace, 
but  its  effect  was  immediate  and  startling. 

The  two  were  standing  near  the  top  of  the  few  steps 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  20$ 

that  led  down  to  Byrne's  wine  vault,  the  gate  of  which 
remained  open  as  the  Irishman  had  left  it  after  releasing 
Carmelita.  As  Scott  recounted  the  means  by  which  he 
hoped  to  convince  the  committee,  Jeffries  listened,  with 
the  evil  sneer  deepening  on  his  face.  But  when  Kate's 
name  was  mentioned — when  Jack  said :  "  I  shall  call 
Mrs.  Morley  to  testify  to  your  motive,"  Hainan  uttered  a 
hoarse  cry  and  leaping  forward  flung  young  Scott  down 
the  steps  with  a  strength  astonishing  in  so  slight  a  man- 
Then  he  slammed  the  gate  and  in  a  voice  of  a  concen- 
trated fury  hissed  : 

"  You  shall  tell  them  nothing." 

Jack  was  so  completely  taken  by  surprise  that  resistance 
was  impossible.  He  had  been  standing  close  to  the  top 
of  the  steps,  and  the  schoolmaster's  sudden  assault  had 
been  sufficient  to  send  him  headlong  to  the  bottom.  The 
fall  was  inconsiderable,  and  the  young  man  was  not  hurt, 
but  before  he  could  pick  himself  up  the  gate  was  closed 
and  he  found  himself  a  prisoner. 

He  flung  himself  furiously  against  the  bars  and  shook 
them  with  the  strength  of  despair. 

"  Go  on !  Try  your  muscles  on  that  iron,"  cried 
Jeffries  with  a  taunting  laugh.  "  You  are  Mr.  Byrne's 
manager.  You  should  know  how  strong  it  is." 

"  Open  the  gate  !  "  roared  Jack.     "  Help,  help  !  " 

"  Shout,  call,"  sneered  Jeffries.  "  There  is  not  a  soul 
within  a  mile  of  you.  There  are  no  laborers  here. 
The  children  have  gone.  You  know  yourself  how  lonely 
this  vineyard  is,  and  night  is  falling.  You  may  call  in 
vain  on  heaven  or  hell !  " 

"  Devil  !  "  cried  Jack,  straining  at  the  bars  with  impo- 
tent fury. 


2O6  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

11 1  might  have  killed  you  instead  of  flinging  you  down 
there,"  pursued  Jeffries.  "  I  had  my  knife  handy  and 
you  were  within  reach — you  have  darkened  and  spoiled 
my  life.  Perhaps  I  should  have  done  so,  but  you  made 
me  angry  and  one  cannot  think  of  everything." 

"Goon,  what  matters  one  murder  more,"  murmured 
Jack  as  he  sank  down  exhausted  by  his  efforts. 

"  I  have'n't  a  pistol,  I'm  sorry  to  say,"  went  on  Jeffries 
wiih  exasperating  coolness.  "But  it  does  not  matter. 
You  will  miss  your  appointment  with  the  vigilantes,  but 
they  will  not  miss  you.  Recollect  your  terms.  If  you 
forfeit  your  word  you  are  to  be  shot  on  sight,  and  you 
will  die  dishonored.  You  will  be  dragged  out  of  the  hole 
you  have  chosen  for  a  hiding  place  and  killed  like  a  rat." 

Jack  sprang  to  his  feet  and  grasped  the  bars  again. 

The  mingled  anguish  and  fury  on  his  part  made  his 
persecutor  recoil. 

"  Ay,  struggle,"  said  Jeffries.  "  I  have  you  safe,  I 
think.  That  vault  is  strong,  and  the  key  is  in  the  pocket 
of  Pat  Byrne,  and  he  is  in  San  Antonio.  So  a  pleasant 
night  to  you,  Jack  Scott,  and  a  happy  release  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

He  turned  away,  taking  no  further  notice  of  the  young 
man's  wild  ravings  and  impotent  struggles. 

As  the  schoolmaster  faced  the  open  ground  he  came 
face  to  face  with  Juan  Estudillo,  yawning  and  rubbing  his 
eyes,  looking  even  more  stupid  than  usual. 

Jeffries  went  straight  up  to  him  and  forced  him  back- 
ward to  a  point  whence  the  entrance  to  the  vault  was 
invisible,  and  at  which  the  outcries  of  the  prisoner — but 
he  was  quiet  for  the  moment — had  some  chance  of  pass- 
ing unnoticed. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  207 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  you  cursed  greaser  ?  "  de- 
manded Jeffries  furiously.  "  I  thought  you  had  been 
warned  to  keep  away." 

"  I  come  for  my  pobre  cita,  Carmelita,"  explained 
Juan.  "The  senor  himself  said  to  me  to  come." 

"Ah,  so  I  did,"  answered  Hainan.  "Well,  Carmelita 
is  at  the  overseer's  with  the  other  children.  Come,  I'll 
take  you  with  me  and  see  you  start  for  home  from  there. 
No  skulking  or  hanging  back,"  he  added  sternly,  as  the 
Mexican  appeared  about  to  take  a  course  that  would 
bring  him  in  view  of  the  gate. 

"  But,  Senor,  the  way  to  the  overseer's  is — " 

"It  is  the  way  I  choose  to  take,"  said  Jeffries. 
"  March." 

The  two  men  passed  along  the  terrace  at  the  back  of 
the  vault,  and  soon  struck  into  an  alley  which  led  toward 
the  overseer's  house. 

"  How  long  have  you  been  loafing  around  this  vine- 
yard ?  "  demanded  the  schoolmaster. 

"Not  long,"  answered  Juan.     "I  yust  come." 

"What  have  you  heard  ?  " 

"  I  only  come  now,"  returned  the  Mexican,  spreading 
out  his  palms.  "  I  hear  nothing  but  the  wind.  What 
could  I  hear  ?  " 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  bringing  me  that  lying  letter 
this  morning?  "  asked  Jeffries. 

"  I  did  not  write  him.     What  lie  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  fool — an  ignorant  fool,"  uttered  the  school- 
master savagely. 

By  this  time  they  had  crossed  several  terraces  and 
were  some  little  distance  from  the  vault,  but  a  cry,  a  dis- 
tant, smothered  cry,  "  Help,  help  ! "  reached  their  ears, 


208  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Juan  stopptd  and  held  up  his  hand. 

"  Listen  !     I  hear  somedings  !  " 

"  You'll  hear  little  enough  in  this  world  if  you  don't 
do  as  I  tell  you  !  "  cried  Jeffries  passionately.  "  Come 
along.  In  front  of  me,  mind." 

And  so  the  two  men  vanished  among  the  vines. 

Jack  sat  on  the  stone  floor  of  the  vault  with  his  head  in 
his  hands,  endeavoring  to  think  collectedly. 

"  He  is  gone,  the  cowardly  ruffian,"  he  mused.  "  Now 
I  am  certain  that  he  is  the  murderer,  and  he  felt  my 
threats  more  than  he  dared  show.  I  must  get  out  of 
here.  I  must  be  at  Lone  Pine  Knob  in  time." 

He  rose  and  made  a  careful  examination  of  the  cell. 
It  was  sunk  in  the  earth,  as  Jack  well  knew,  only  the  face 
being  exposed  where  a  slight  slope  of  the  ground  had 
been  cut  down  for  the  purpose.  The  interior  was  bricked 
and  lined  with  cement  throughout.  Obviously  the  only 
point  where  an  attack  could  be  made  with  any  hope  of 
success  was  on  the  gate  itself,  and  this  was  composed  of 
stout  iron  bars,  each  thicker  than  a  man's  thumb.  It 
seemed  a  hopeless  chance,  but  Scott  had  no  other,  and, 
taking  out  his  knife,  he  started  on  his  task. 

This  knife  of  Jack's  was  no  penknife,  but  a  large, 
heavy,  many  bladed  affair  which  he  had  bought  in  San 
Francisco  as  a  good  companion  in  the  wilderness  for 
which  he  was  bound.  It  comprised  a  saw,  gimlet,  stirrup 
punch,  and  many  other  attachments,  as  well  as  one  which 
in  its  owner's  present  predicament  was  worth  all  the  rest 
put  together.  This  was  a  stout,  substantial  file,  and  with 
this  Jack  attacked  the  centre  bar,  working  hard  and  talk- 
ing to  himself  to  keep  up  his  courage. 

"  Capital   bit   of   steel   that !     I   believe  it  will  do  it. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  2OQ 

Jeffries  is  the  man — not  a  doubt  of  it  now,  though  I  wish 
I  had  stripped  the  coat  from  his  back  and  examined  his 
arm.  No  doubt  he  bore  the  mark  of  Cain.  The  scar,  if 
I  could  show  it,  would  weigh  more  with  the  vigilantes  as 
a  piece  of  evidence  than  all  the  rest  put  together." 

He  worked  long  and  patiently  before  he  paused  and 
examined  the  bar  to  see  what  progess  he  had  made.  He 
had  cut  a  deep  gash  in  the  iron,  and  though  his  hands 
were  chafed  and  sore  and  his  arms  ached  from  the  un- 
wonted toil,  he  felt  reasonably  certain  that  he  could  win 
his  way  to  liberty.  He  had  calculated  that  the  removal 
of  one  bar  would  leave  an  opening  through  which  he 
could  pass ;  but  then  the  bar  must  be  filed  through  at  top 
and  bottom.  Could  he  accomplish  this  and  still  be  in 
time  at  Lone  Pine  Knob  ?  He  struck  a  match  and  con- 
sulted his  watch.  Twenty  minutes  past  eight.  So  he 
had  been  three  hours,  perhaps,  at  work,  and  the  first  cut 
did  not  reach  more  than  half  way  through  the  iron.  He 
felt  that  he  must  do  better  than  this,  and  yield  to  neither 
fatigue  nor  pain  if  he  would  win  his  freedom. 

He  hung  aside  his  coat  and  went  to  work  again.  His 
hands  grew  so  tender  that  he  was  obliged  to  wrap  his 
handkerchief  around  the  handle  of  the  knife,  and  from 
the  constrained  position  he  was  obliged  to  assume  every 
muscle  ached,  and  sometimes  he  could  not  repress  a  cry 
as  he  was  seized  with  a  torturing  cramp.  But  he  was 
making  distinct  progress  and  he  sawed  on,  the  perspira- 
tion rolling  from  every  pore,  and  his  breath  came  quick 
and  short  as  he  bent  to  his  task.  The  thought  of  Lucy 
nerved  him.  It  would  be  terrible  to  die  and  leave  her; 
but  if  he  died  dishonored !  He  shuddered  at  the  idea. 
Of  course  Jeffries  woul.d  lead  a  party  in  quest  of  him,  and 


210  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

would  so  contrive  as  to  discover  him  as  if  accidentally. 
Then  no  explanation  of  his  would  be  listened  to.  It 
would  be  naturally  assumed  that  he  had  sought  shelter  in 
the  vault,  and  had  inadvertently  imprisoned  himself.  He 
would  be  butchered  without  mercy. 

But  he  believed  that  he  could  cut  his  way  out  in  time. 
He  dared  not  stop  to  look  at  his  watch,  for  every  moment 
was  precious,  but  he  felt  that  he  was  making  good  prog- 
ress. 

A  sharp  snap,  followed  by  a  ringing  clatter,  echoed 
through  the  place,  and  Jack's  hand,  meeting  no  resistance, 
slid  along  the  bars.  The  blade  had  broken  and  the  file 
had  fallen  outside,  beyond  his  reach.  The  misfortune 
was  irreparable,  and  the  young  fellow's  courage  gave  way 
before  it.  His  last  thought  was  of  Lucy  as  he  sank 
swooning  on  the  cold,  hard  floor  of  the  vault. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A  MILE  or  more  north  of  San  Pablo,  a  spur  running 
westward  from  the  foothills  ends  in  an  abrupt  eminence 
which,  though  of  no  great  height,  is  a  tolerably  conspic- 
uous object  in  the  neighborhood,  owing  to  its  isolation 
and  peculiar  shape.  It  is  nearly  circular,  and  its  steep 
sides  and  flattened  top  gives  it  the  appearance  of  one  of 
the  old-fashioned  straw  bee-hives  that  are  still  sometimes 
seen  in  rustic  gardens.  This  odd-looking  hill  is  clothed 
with  a  sparse  growth  of  pine  trees.  Owing  to  its  sanely 
soil  and  complete  exposure  to  the  prevailing  ocean  winds 
there  is  none  of  the  rank  luxuriance  of  undergrowth 
which  characterizes  most  of  the  ravines  and  valleys  of  the 
Coast  Range.  On  the  level  round  summit  stands  a  single 
redwood,  no  giant  like  its  relatives  of  Northern  California, 
but  dwarfed  and  stunted  by  its  uncongenial  position. 
Toward  the  Pacific  its  trunk  is  branchless  for  many  feet, 
but  toward  the  inland  spread  various  gnarled  limbs, 
as  if  all  the  vitality  of  the  tree  had  shrunk  away  from  the 
unwelcome  salt  breezes. 

Such  is  Lone  Pine  Knob,  a  well-known  landmark  on 
the  coast  near  San  Pablo,  and  around  the  solitary  red- 
wood, in  various  attitudes,  the  avengers  grouped  them- 
selves awaiting  the  hour  at  which  Jack  Scott  had  promised 
to  return — with  or  without  the  murderer. 

It  was  a  glorious  moonlight  night.  Westward  the 
broad  Pacific  swelled  like  a  silver  shield  to  the  horizon  ; 

211 


212  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

eastward  undulated  the  low  foothills,  gradually  rising 
as  they  drew  nearer  the  hidden  line  of  the  coast  range. 
North  and  south  stretched  a  level  solitude,  broken  only 
by  a  few  twinkling  lights  in  the  distance  where  the  village 
of  San  Pablo  nestled  between  sea  and  mountain.  And 
the  grim  band  of  masked  men,  stretched  in  attitudes  of 
expectancy  or  whispering  in  knots,  gave  the  needed 
touch  of  life  to  the  solemn  beauty  of  the  picture. 

"  I  wonder  if  the  sheriff  saw  us  start,"  remarked  Field 
uneasily. 

"  Don't  believe  he  did,"  returned  Smith,  to  whom  the 
question  had  been  addressed.  "  He  was  inside  the  hotel 
when  we  vamosed.  Not  that  it  makes  much  difference, 
though.  Sam  knows  where  the  meeting  was  called,  and 
he'll  be  after  us  as  soon  as  he  drops  to  it  that  we've 
cleared." 

"  I  wish  he  wouldn't  come,"  said  Field. 

"So  do  I,  but  he'll  come!  Anyhow  I  don't  think 
we'll  have  any  necktie  and  suspender  sociable  this 
night." 

"  Why  not  ?  Do  you  think  Jack  Scott  won't  show  up  ?" 
inquired  Boone,  who  had  drawn  near  the  speakers. 

"  'Pears  like  it,  Judge,"  answered  Smith.  "  Where's 
he  been  keeping  himself  all  evening,  if  he  meant  to  do 
the  square  thing  by  us  ?  " 

"  I'm  beginning  to  dislike  this  job  most  confoundedly," 
remarked  Boone,  shaking  his  broad  shoulders  with  the 
action  of  a  water  dog. 

"  Why  ?  "  inquired  Field,  in  the  pert,  intrusive  manner 
to  which  he  owed  his  nickname  of  Foxy. 

"  Why  ?  "  repeated  the  judge.  "  Well,  now  ;  come 
here.  What'll  you  do  if  Jack  Scott  turns  up  ?  " 


JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  We'll  hang  him,  of  course." 

"  Looks  kinder  cold  blooded,  don't  it  ?  See,"  urged 
the  judge,  waxing  more  earnest,  "the  lad  comes  here 
alone,  and  gives  himself  up  because  his  time  is  out." 

"  No  more'n  he  ought  to  do,"  interjected  Smith. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  replied  Boone  ;  "  but  it  looks  hard. 
I  took  kindly  enough  to  the  job  when  it  was  to  be  done 
off-hand.  The  delay  has  sort  o'  shaken  the  sand  out  of 
me." 

"We've  sworn  to  maintain  the  peace  of  the  county  and 
put  down  outrage  and  murder  with  a  high  hand,"  spouted 
Field  in  his  oratorical  manner. 

"  That's  a  fact,"  sighed  the  judge.  "  D'ye  reckon  he'll 
come  ? " 

"  If  he's  a  man  of  his  word  he'll  come,"  replied 
Field. 

"  Man  of  his  word  be  derned,"  retorted  Boone.  "  This 
is  a  life-and-death  matter.  If  you  were  in  his  place 
would  you  come  yourself  ?  " 

Field  hesitated. 

"  I — I  trust  that  I  shall  never  find  myself  in  such  a 
position/'  he  said  after  a  moment's  pause. 

"  If  you  mean  by  that  that  any  of  the  boys  would  let 
you  off  on  your  promise  to  show  up,  you're  about  right, 
I  reckon,"  sneered  the  judge.  "  When  your  time  comes 
you'll  be  hanged  prompt  enough.  No  one  would  take 
your  word  for  twenty-four  hours,  Mr.  Foxy  Field." 

"  That  was  not  my  meaning  at  all,"  cried  the  other, 
turning  away  angrily. 

One  man  stood  alone  near  the  slope  of  the  Knob  that 
overlooked  the  ocean.  He  glanced  nervously  at  his 
watch  every  few  minutes  and  occasionally  gazed  upward 


214  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

at  the  moon,  as  though  from  her  position  in  the  heavens 
he  would  determine  the  flight  of  time. 

"  The  last  obstacle  is  removed,"  he  muttered.  "  I 
have  followed  the  path  marked  out  for  me  by  fate,  even 
to  the  end,  and  the  reward  will  follow.  Kate  will  be 
mine.  She  cannot  continue  this  vain  struggle  with  des- 
tiny." 

A  slouching  figure  crept  up  among  the  pine  trees.  It 
was  Corvey.  Luck  had  been  against  him  during  the 
evening  and  little  liquor  had  come  in  his  way,  so  he  fol- 
lowed the  avengers  on  their  midnight  march  in  the  hope 
of  deriving  some  stimulus  from  the  milder  excitement 
of  manslaughter;  but  he  kept  himself  carefully  in  the 
background,  for  the  vigilantes  were  all  respectable  men, 
and  he  feared  they  might  resent  his  presence. 

Field  had  moved  across  towards  Jeffries. 

"  Time  must  be  nearly  up,  isn't  it  ?  "  he  remarked. 

Field  spoke  aloud  and  several  drew  their  watches  from 
their  pockets  and  consulted  them. 

"  I  must  have  stopped,  I  think,"  said  Jeffries,  peering 
at  the  dial  in  the  moonlight.  "  I'm  only  twenty-six -min- 
utes past.''' 

"  Then  you're  fast,"  returned  the  judge,  "  for  it's  only 
twenty-three  past.  He  has  seven  minutes  still." 

"  I  don't  reckon  it  that  way,"  replied  the  schoolmaster. 
"  It  was  at  twenty  minutes  past  eleven  last  night  that  we 
granted  twenty-four  hours." 

"  Your  watch  was  goin'  then,  was  it  ?  "  queried  Boone, 
dryly. 

"  It  was,"  answered  Jeffries. 

"  And  has  been  galloping  ever  since,  I'll  warrant. 
No,  no.  I  said  till  11:30  with  my  own  mouth,  and  the 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  21$ 

man  that  wants  to  dock  a  second  of  that  time  will  have  to 
argy  the  point  with  me." 

This  remark  silenced  Jeffries.  In  the  language  of  San 
Pablo,  "  The  judge  was  a  bad  man  to  fool  with." 

"  Suppose  he  doesn't  come  then  ?  "  demanded  Field. 

Jeffries  broke  in  again. 

"  If  he  doesn't  come  that'll  prove  him  to  be  the  mur- 
derer past  peradventure.  We'll  search  the  whole  country 
for  him,  and  he'll  be  shot  if  he  is  caught." 

"  He'll  come,  sure  enough,"  remarked  the  judge 
stolidly. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  returned  the  schoolmaster. 

"  And  what  in  thunder  do  you  know  about  it,"  demanded 
the  other. 

Jeffries  quailed  at  the  tone  of  the  question. 

"  Nothing,  nothing ;  only  it  isn't  likely,"  he  stammered. 

"  You  mean  you'd  vamose  middling  lively  if  you  was  in 
his  place,"  commented  Boone  in  a  contemptuous  voice ; 
"  but  you  and  Jack  Scott  aint  the  same  breed,  I  reckon." 

"  Boys,"  said  Jeffries,  turning  to  the  men  who  had 
lounged  up  to  hear  the  discussion ;  "  it's  clear  the  judge 
has  gone  back  on  us.  His  grit  is  gone,  and  he  isn't  the 
man  to  put  the  job  through." 

The  schoolmaster  possessed  no  rhetorical  arts,  but  he 
usually  was  careful  to  suit  his  language  to  his  audience. 

The  judge  was  nettled  by  the  charge,  and  taunted 
Jeffries  with  his  fright  at  the  supposed  ghost,  but  the 
story  was  by  this  time  familiar  to  every  one  on  the 
ground,  and  beyond  a  renewal  of  the  laugh  at  Haman's 
expense,  Boone's  repartee  accomplished  nothing.  The 
schoolmaster  took  the  ridicule  unconcernedly  and  pro- 
ceeded with  his  argument. 


2l6  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

"  Nerves  and  courage  are  two  different  things.  Now, 
look  here,  boys ;  it's  come  to  this :  With  Judge  Boone 
or  without  Judge  Boone,  weVe  got  to  keep  our  oaths  and 
vindicate  San  Pablo's  reputation  for  law  and  order.  You 
had  the  murderer  in  your  hands  last  night ;  the  rope  was 
round  his  neck.  Contrary  to  my  advice,  and  in  compli- 
ance with  Judge  Boone's  decision,  you  let  him  go,  on  the 
understanding  that  he  would  show  up  here  to-night.  I 
didn't,  suppose  any  man  in  his  senses  would  have  taken 
Jack  Scott's  word  for  such  a  thing,  but  you  chose  to  take 
it,  and  I'd  nothing  to  say.  Now  he's  off.  I  don't  think 
he's  got  clear  of  the  neighborhood,  for  no  one's  seen  him 
on  the  road,  and  we  can't  find  that  he's  had  any  wagon. 
He's  hiding  somewhere  around,  and  it's  our  business  to 
look  him  up ;  and  when  we  find'  him,  no  more  palavering 
and  slippery  business,  but  just  shoot  him  on  sight,  for  a 
murderer  who's  broken  his  bail  is  no  better  than  a  wild 
beast." 

The  schoolmaster's  speech  was  received  with  applause, 
and  the  men  evidently  only  waited  for  a  signal  to  scour 
the  country  in  search  of  the  fugitive. 

"  Is  time  up?"  inquired  Field. 

"  Time  is  up,"  responded  Haman. 

"You  lie,  it  is'n't,"  said  the  judge  curtly.  "  I  thought 
your  watch  had  stopped,  Haman  Jeffries." 

"Look  at  your  own,  then.  My  watch  is  right  enough. 
Come  boys,  get  to  work.  I'll  lead  a  gang  to  search  the 
vineyard  first." 

"  Stop !  "  shouted  Boone,  in  a  voice  of  thunder.  "  Hold 
hard,  boys.  Give  the  devil  his  due.  He  has  five  seconds 
— he — time's  up  !  " 

But  even  as  Judge  Boone  was  speaking,  a  breathless 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  21 J 

man  dashed  through  the  pine  trees  on  the  eastern  slope 
of  the  Knob,  and  Jack  Scott  emerged  in  the  moonlight 
on  the  summit. 

"  Here  I  am,  gentlemen,  on  time,  I  hope." 

The  effect  of  Jack's  appearance  was  various  on  differ- 
ent members  of  the  committee  on  safety.  Some,  struck 
by  so  much  courage  and  devotion,  could  hardly  restrain 
their  applause,  and  the  judge,  yielding  to  an  impulse  he 
could  not  control,  stepped  forward  and  grasped  the  young 
man's  hand. 

"  On  time,  lad,  on  the  nick  of  it,"  he  said. 

Field,  Smith  and  one  or  two  others  consulted  together 
apart ;  while  Jeffries,  mute  and  terror-stricken,  crowded 
close  against  the  trunk  of  the  solitary  red-wood,  and 
asked  himself  how  it  was  possible  for  Jack  to  have  es- 
caped, and  marvelled  if  fate  reserved  a  triumph  for  this 
man  after  all. 

"  Have  you  brought  the  murderer  ?  " 

In  the  pause  that  followed  the  judge's  question  the 
young  man's  quick  breathing  could  be  heard,  and  they 
saw  in  his  flushed  brow  and  heaving  breast  evidence  of 
the  desperate  efforts  he  had  put  forth  to  keep  his  word. 
All  hung  upon  his  answer  in  silence,  while  the  low,  dis- 
tant boom  of  the  Pacific  came  up  to  their  ears,  mingled 
with  the  voices  of  the  forest. 

"  I  have  not  brought  the  murderer  with  me,"  answered 
Jack,  resolutely,  "  because,  if  I  mistake  not,  he  is  here 
already." 

A  general  buzz  of;  wonder  and  inquiry  arose  from  the 
crowd  which  pressed  eagerly  around  Scott,  while  Hainan 
Jeffries,  listening  with  his  very  soul,  pressed  ever  closer 


218  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

and  closer  to  the  redwood,  and  readjusted  the  crape  mask 
he  wore  with  a  trembling  hand. 

"  Is  Haman  Jeffries  here  ?  "  demanded  Scott. 

There  was  no  reply  and  he  repeated  the  words. 

"  Is  Haman  Jeffries  here  ?  " 

Field  stepped  forward. 

"  Silence,  prisoner,"  he  cried.  "  It  isn't  your  place  to 
ask  questions.  Nobody  here  has  a  name,  mind  that." 

Haman  raised  his  head.  He  had  an  ally  still,  it  would 
seem.  Then  the  man's  native  audacity  reasserted  itself, 
and  he  slowly  came  forward  into  the  circle,  but  he  kept 
the  mask  closely  fastened. 

"  Gentlemen,"  cried  Jack,  "  I  must  be  heard,  otherwise 
the  parole  you  accepted  from  me  last  night  was  purpose- 
less. You  gave  me  twenty-four  hours  to  find  the  mur- 
derer. I  ask  now  for  less  than  as  many  minutes  to 
expose  him." 

"  Go  ahead,  Jack,"  uttered  the  judge,  heartily.  "  You've 
kept  your  word  and  you  shall  have  fair  time  to  say  all 
you  want  to." 

"Thank  you,"  replied  Jack.  "Well,  gentlemen,  I 
must  admit  that  my  proof  is  not  quite  complete.  But 
listen.  There  is  a  man  in  San  Pablo— he  may  be  here 
now,  but  I  cannot  distinguish  him — who  saw  the  murdered 
man's  cousin  this  morning,  and  impressed  by  the  like- 
ness, he  thought  it  was  Dick  Morley's  ghost.  He  fell 
on—" 

Jack  was  interrupted  by  a  burst  of  derisive  laughter 
from  the  crowd. 

"Why,  that's  Ham  Jeffries'  ghost  story,"  remarked  the 
judge. 

"  It  is  Jeffries  I  am  speaking  of — "  began  Jack. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  21$ 

"  Yah  !  "  broke  in  Field  ;  "  we  know  all  about  it.  He 
told  us  himself." 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  repeated  Jack,  "all  I  can  say  is 
that  I  met  Jeffries  in  the  vineyard  this  afternoon ;  that  I 
had  a  conversation  with  him — " 

The  judge  turned  sharply  on  Jeffries. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  us  you  had  seen  Scott  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Because  I  hadn't,"  responded  Jeffries  without  hesita- 
tion. "  I  hear  of  it  now  for  the  first  time." 

"  I  am  glad  the  lie  has  not  choked  you,"  shouted  Jack, 
"  since  it  has  at  least  betrayed  your  identity.  This  man 
not  only  spoke  to  me  in  the  vineyard,  but  he  locked  me 
up  in  the  vault,  so  that  I  might  not  be  able  to  keep  my 
appointment  with  you  here." 

"  Am  I  called  upon  to  deny  such  silly  falsehoods  ?  " 
demanded  the  schoolmaster.  "  Since  when  has  Mr.  Scott 
been  such  a  weakling  that  I  could  drag  him  to  the  lockup 
at  my  will  as  I  might  an  unruly  schoolboy?  This  is  the 
effect  of  despair,  gentlemen.  He  has  found  himself  un- 
able to  escape,  so  comes  forward  at  the  eleventh  hour  to 
accuse  me  of  this  crime." 

The  mob  was  divided  in  opinion.  Though  many  were 
inclined  to  believe  Jack  Scott,  it  seemed,  as  the  school- 
master had  pointed  out,  scarcely  credible  that  a  delicate 
man  such  as  he  was  could  imprison  against  his  will  a 
young  athlete  like  Scott.  Besides,  Jeffries  had  set  out  and 
returned  with  the  picnic.  It  was  difficult  to  imagine  how 
such  a  scene  as  that  at  which  Jack  hinted  could  have 
happened  without  witnesses,  for  lonely  as  the  vineyard 
was  in  general,  on  that  particular  day  it  had  been  quite 
otherwise. 

When  the   men   debated  these   points,  the  Hon.   Pat 


22O  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

Byrne,  closely  followed  by  Juan  Estudillo,  climbed  the 
slope  and  appeared  on  the  Knob. 

"  I'll  say  wan  thing  to  yez,  boys,"  said  the  Hon.  Pat, 
wiping  his  brow,  for  the  climb  had  been  severe  and  he 
was  unused  to  exercise.  "  I'll  tell  ye  wan  thing.  That's 
the  finest  young  fellow  yer  town  iver  had  or  iver  will 
have.  I  just  let  him  out  o'  quod  in  that  vault  o'  mine 
beyant,  an'  widout  sayin'  by  yer  lave  or  wid  yer  lave,  or 
even  so  much  as  I  thank  ye  kindly,  he  was  off  across  hill 
an'  hollow  to  thry  and  mek  betther  nor  a  mile  in  tin 
minutes  for  fear  he'd  kape  ye  waitin'.  There's  politeness 
for  yez.  Murder  indade  !  Don't  tell  me.  Did  ever  any 
man  see  a  murderer  stip  up  an'  face  the  music  like  that 
young  fellow's  doin'? " 

"  It's  no  use,  Mr.  Byrne,"  remarked  Smith  dogmat- 
ically. "  We  gave  Scott  twenty-four  hours  to  find  the 
murderer.  Now  he's  here  with  an  absurd  impossible 
yarn  about  Ham  Jeffries,  which  I  for  one  won't  believe 
and  can't." 

"  Blood  for  blood  was  law  before  ever  Judge  Lynch 
held  court,"  muttered  Pete  sullenly. 

The  current  was  evidently  beginning  to  set  against 
Scott,  the  more  strongly  as  the  men  regarded  Jack's  story 
as  a  dastardly  attempt  to  fasten  the  guilt  on  an  innocent 
man,  for  no  shadow  of  suspicion  had  arisen  to  link 
Hainan  Jeffries  with  the  crime. 

A  hoarse,  ominous  murmur  arose  from  the  mob,  and 
more  than  one  voice  was  heard  calling  for  prompt  and 
exemplary  vengeance.  A  faint  "  whish  "  cut  the  air  as  a 
riata  was  uncoiled  and  flung  over  a  bough  of  the  red- 
wood, and  once  more  the  ghastly  noose  dangled  visible 
in  the  moonlight. 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  2 2 1 

"  Step  up  to  the  front,  Juan,"  said  Byrne,  urging  for- 
ward the  Mexican,  who  had  hitherto  crouched  shrinking 
in  the  background  ;  "  step  up  like  a  man  and  tell  the 
boys  all  you  told  me." 

But  the  Irishman's  interference  and  the  Mexican's 
evidence  came  too  late.  The  passions  of  the  men  were 
all  aroused  and  Field,  Jeffries,  Smith,  and  others  clam- 
ored for  an  immediate  fulfillment  of  the  purpose  which 
had  brought  them  together. 

As  Juan  advanced  trembling,  supported  by  Byrne, 
there  was  a  sudden  forward  rush  of  the  crowd  which  bore 
them  back,  and  Smith's  voice  shouted  : 

"  Lively,  boys,  lively :  before  the  sheriff  gets  here  and 
we  have  all  last  night's  trouble  over  again." 

But  at  this  moment  an  unexpected  occurrence  once 
more  snatched  Jack  from  the  very  jaws  of  death. 

The  attention  of  all  present  was  riveted  on  the  scene 
beneath  the  tree.  Rude  hands  had  seized  on  the  young 
man  and  hustled  him  forward.  Judge  Boone  stood  apart 
with  folded  arms,  realizing  that  matters  had  passed 
beyond  his  control.  Pat  Byrne,  forced  to  the  outside 
edge  of  the  crowd,  struggled  vainly  to  break  through, 
when  suddenly  Kate  Morley  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
swaying,  heaving  circle  of  men. 

No  one  knew  whence  she  came  ;  no  one  had  seen  her 
approach.  She  might  have  dropped  from  the  skies 
among  the  turbulent  throng  which  paused  in  its  murder- 
ous work  and  drew  back  for  a  moment,  startled  at  her 
unexpected  appearance. 

She  was  quick  to  take  advantage  of  the  sensation  she 
had  produced.  Pushing  forward  till  she  stood  close  to 
Scott,  released  for  the  instant  from  the  hands  that  held 


222  JUDGE  L  YNCH. 

him,  she  turned  and  confronted  the  ring  of  menacing 
figures  and  masked  faces. 

"  Stop,  stop,"  she  cried.  "  It  is  impossible  that  this 
man  can  be  guilty  of  the  crime  you  charge  him  with. 
Hear  me." 

As  she  stood  there,  her  cheeks  flushed  and  her  eyes 
ablaze  with  excitement,  her  magnificent  hair,  loosened  in 
her  hurried  race  through  the  woods,  streaming  wildly 
round  her,  and  her  bosom  heaving  with  breathless  eager- 
ness, she  looked  like  some  goddess  of  the  mountains 
come  to  vindicate  the  sanctity  of  her  dwelling. 

Jeffries,  who  had  been  in  the  front  rank  of  the 
avengers,  cowered  in  her  presence,  and  sought  to  shrink 
back  through  the  crowd,  but  the  cordon  behind  him  was 
too  closely  drawn. 

The  murmur  of  astonishment  and  admiration  that  had 
greeted  Kate's  appearance  died  out,  and  in  the  silence 
that  ensued,  Pat  Byrne's  voice  sounded  grotesque  and  his 
words  absurd  and  whimsical  as  he  shouted  : 

"  If  the  dacent  woman  has  a  word  of  evidence  to  give, 
sure  ye'll  hear  it." 

The  feelings  of  the  vigilantes  relieved  themselves  in  a 
burst  of  laughter  which  had  something  hysterical  in  its 
discord  with  the  situation.  The  last  intervention  in 
Scott's  behalf  had  been  so  unlooked  for,  so  bewildering 
in  its  suddenness,  that  the  nerves  of  many  a  man 
quivered  now,  who  had  never  owned  the  existence  of 
nerves  before. 

"  You  do  well  to  laugh,"  cried  Kate  indignantly ; 
"  you  who  have  banded  together  to  commit  an  inhuman, 
atrocious  murder.  There  is  no  justice  in  you.  You 
accuse  Mr.  Scott  of  shooting  my  husband.  When  the 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  22$ 

shot  was  fired  " — she  hesitated  and  bent  her  head,  while 
a  hot  wave  of  blood  touched  her  cheeks  and  brow  and 
neck  with  crimson,  but  in  an  instant  she  was  erect  again 
and  fearlessly  facing  the  shame  and  scorn  her  words 
must  entail — "  when  the  shot  was  fired,  Mr.  Scott  was  in 
the  store — with  me." 

The  pent  up  breath  escaped  from  many  a  bosom  as 
they  turned  to  each  other,  wondering  and  bewildered,  to 
ask  what  manner  of  woman  this  must  be  to  dare  make 
such  a  confession  after  a  silence  and  under  circumstances 
which  gave  it  so  dark  a  meaning.  Jack,  stunned  and 
thunderstruck,  attempted  to  falter  forth  a  few  words 
of  denial,  but  in  no  one  did  Mrs.  Morley's  confes- 
sion work  so  striking  and  instantaneous  a  change  as  in 
Jeffries. 

He  had  been  pushing  his  way,  silently  and  steadily,  as 
far  back  into  the  crowd  as  he  could,  but  at  Kate's  words 
he  sprang  forward  to  the  centre  again. 

"  It's  a  lie,  and  a  clumsy  lie,"  he  shouted.  "  The 
prisoner  and  the  witness  both  know  that  it  is  a  lie  ! 
Scott  was  not  in  the  store.  He  had  just  started  for  the 
village  ;  there  was  no  one  in  sight.  My  testimony  I  will 
swear  to,  which  is  more  than  Mrs.  Morley  would  care  to 
do  for  hers." 

Jack  stepped  forward  and  confronted  him. 

"  How  do  you  know  I  was  outside,"  he  demanded. 
"  No  one  could  have  been  there  but  the  murderer  !  Are 
you  he  ? " 

Jeffries  recoiled  a  step,  but  Scott  followed  him,  and, 
seizing  him  by  the  shoulder  rent  the  fabric  of  his  coat 
from  wrist  to  elbow.  The  schoolmaster  struggled,  but  he 
was  like  a  child  in  the  grasp  of  a  giant.  The  shirt  and 


224  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

a  rude  bandage  were  torn  from  his  forearm,  disclosing  a 
long,  superficial  wound,  such  as  might  have  been  occa- 
sioned by  the  glancing  blow  of  a  knife. 

Holding  Hainan's  wrist  in  a  vise-like  grip,  Scott  raised 
the  mutilated  arm  so  that  all  might  see  it.  Everything 
had  passed  so  quickly  that  there  had  been  no  time  for 
interference,  even  if  any  one  desired  to  attempt  it.  Now 
the  throng  pressed  closer,  and  examined  the  wound  with 
eager,  questioning  eyes. 

"  There  it  is,  gentlemen,"  continued  Jack  ;  "the  mark 
of  Cain  ;  a  mark  you  all  can  read.  The  sign  manual  of 
the  murdered  man  whereby  he  has  branded  his  mur- 
derer." 

And  tearing  the  mask  from  Haman's  face  Jack  released 
the  arm  and  mingled  with  the  crowd. 

"  Now  look  what  that  man  did,"  shouted  Pat.  "  He 
trapped  that  lad  into  my  vault  and  shut  him  up  there. 
Juan  here  heard  him  and  saw  him  do  it ;  and  like  the 
good  greaser  he  is,  he  out  with  his  mustang  an'  galloped 
ivery  fut  of  the  way  into  San  Antonio  to  fetch  me  back 
to  let  Jack  Scott  out." 

"  Si,  Senor,"  assented  Juan. 

Judge  Boone  turned  on  Jeffries  with  an  oath. 

"  You  villanous  traitor,"  he  shouted. 

"Murderer  first,  traitor  afterward,"  cried  Jack. 
"  Twice  this  man  attempted  Morley's  life  ;  once  with  a 
knife — he  failed  then  and  got  this  scar  that  marks  him 
for  the  gallows.  Once  with  a  pistol ;  the  pistol  poor  Dick 
gave  him  to  return  to  me  ;  and  then  he  succeeded,  only 
to  seek  my  life,  too,  by  your  aid  and  that  yonder." 

Jack  pointed  to  the  dangling  rope,  while  Judge  Boone 
spoke  to  the  vigilantes. 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  22$ 

"  What's  the  verdict  of  this  committee  as  to  Jack 
Scott  ?  " 

There  was  a  universal  cry  of  "  Not  guilty,"  which  rolled 
its  echoes  far  down  the  hillside. 

Meanwhile  Pat  Byrne  was  supporting  the  almost  faint- 
ing form  of  Kate  Morley. 

"  Cheer  up,  me  dear  crathur,"  urged  the  kind-hearted 
Irishman.  "  Sure  Jack's  safe,  and  as  for  what  you've 
said — not  a  wan  believed  it ;  divil  a  sowl.  Jack,  come 
here,  can't  you,  an'  help  me  get  the  lady  home.  Its 
swounding  she  is." 

Between  them  Jack  and  Byrne  assisted  Kate  down  the 
steep  hill-side.  Before  they  had  gone  very  far  they  met 
Mr.  Starkweather  and  Lucy.  The  girl  had  insisted  on 
accompanying  her  father  as  soon  as  he  discovered  that 
the  vigilantes  had  left  San  Pablo. 

Jeffries  had  not  spoken  a  word  since  the  murder  had 
been  brought  home  to  him.  He  was  seated  under  the 
redwood,  closely  surrounded  by  the  vigilantes,  who  held 
a  hurried  deliberation  as  to  his  fate.  Once  only  did  he 
rouse  himself  with  some  show  of  interest,  when  he  saw 
Jack  and  Kate  vanish  among  the  pines. 

"  Oh,  that  woman,  that  woman  !  "  he  muttered.  "  It 
was  fate  !  It  has  been  written  for  a  million  years  that 
this  will  happen  so.  A  curse  on  my  blindness  that  could 
not  read  my  dream  aright.  The  branch  in  the  likeness 
of  Jack  Scott  was  never  broken." 

Then  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  refused  to 
look  up  again. 

Jack  was  warmly  greeted  by  the  sheriff,  and  in  a  few 
words  the  latter  was  made  acquainted  with  the  changed 


226  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

position  of  affairs.  His  next  question  was  as  to  Haman 
Jeffries. 

"  I  left  him  up  there  at  the  top  of  Lone  Pine  Knob," 
answered  Jack.  "  Where  are  you  going  ? "  as  Stark- 
weather turned  abruptly  away. 

"  I  am  going  to  arrest  the  man,"  replied  Sam,  "  and 
save  him  from  the  mob,  if  I  am  in  time,"  he  added  as  he 
strode  up  the  hill. 

Byrne  looked  from  Jack  towards  Starkweather,  and 
hesitated,  but  seeing  that  Mrs.  Morley  stood  in  no  further 
need  of  assistance,  he  hastened  after  the  sheriff. 

Kate  was  her  own  calm  self  again.  She  turned  to 
Jack  and  extended  her  hand. 

"The  danger  is  all  over  now,  Mr.  Scott.  I  will  say 
good-by." 

"  Oh,  I  will  see  you  home,"  answered  Jack  quickly. 

"  Indeed,  there  is  no  necessity,"  replied  Kate  ;  "  you 
must  stay  with  Miss  Starkweather.  Won't  you  say  good- 
by  ?  I  shall  scarcely  see  you  again." 

"  Are  you  really  going  to  Memphis  ? "  inquired  Jack. 

"  I  shall  scarcely  see  you  again,  either  of  you,"  replied 
Kate  quietly.  "  Do  you  remember  how  we  watched  for 
the  dawn  this  morning,  Lucy  ?  I  shall  often  think  of 
that.  May  the  sun  of  happiness  that  has  this  day  risen 
on  both  your  lives,  never  set.  God  bless  you,  Mr.  Scott. 
Good-by,  Lucy.  Be  very  good  to  him,  for  he  is  worthy 
of  it,  and  he  has  come  to  you  through  many  perils." 

She  pressed  a  quick  kiss  on  Lucy's  forehead  and  dis- 
appeared among  the  trees. 

"  Do  you  know,  Jack,"  said  Lucy,  after  a  moment's 
silence.  "Don't  think  I'm  jealous  a  bit,  but — I  think 
she  was  very  fond  of  you,  dear." 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  227 

"You  foolish  little  woman,"  he  returned.  "You  must 
not  imagine  every  one  has  your  bad  taste." 

And  so  they  lingered  in  the  fragrant  gloom  of  the 
pines,  while  Kate  Morley  carried  her  desolate  heart  to 
her  desolate  home. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

RATHER  more  than  a  year  after  Jack  Scott's  memorable 
tryst  at  Lone  Pine  Knob,  the  Hon.  Pat  Byrne  stood  in 
the  plaza  of  San  Pablo  waiting  for  the  arrival  of  the  San 
Antonio  coach,  for  a  semi-weekly  stage  line  had  been 
established  by  his  enterprise.  The  honorable  gentleman 
was  attired  in  a  brand  new  frock  coat  and  an  extra  shiny 
hat,  while  his  other  garments  were  of  corresponding  mag- 
nificence. He  wore  a  necktie  which  would  have  been 
worthy  of  Solomon  in  all  his  glory,  and  a  rosebud  nestled 
in  the  lappel  of  his  coat.  Evidently  Mr.  Byrne  was 
expecting  company. 

From  time  to  time  he  consulted  his  watch  and  shook 
his  head,  muttering  that  it  would  be  necessary  "  to  give 
Every  Day  Pete  a  taste  o'  discipline,  or  he'd  never  larn  to 
drive  a  coach,"  but  in  due  time  the  stage  did  arrive,  and 
the  Hon.  Pat  had  the  pleasure  of  assisting  his  fair  friend, 
once  Miss  Carrie  Van  Zandt,  to  alight,  while  Jimmy 
Ruggles  climbed  down  from  the  driver's  box  unaided. 

"  Sure  it's  a  sight  for  sore  eyes  to  see  ye,  me  dear 
young  lady,"  cried  Byrne  raising  his  hat  with  ceremonious 
politeness.  "It's  real  tasty  and  charming  ye're  lookin'. 
Ah,  there's  nothing  like  mattheromony  fer  the  young  an 
beeootiful,"  and  the  Hon.  Pat  with  a  killing  air  pressed 
his  right  hand  on  the  lefr  side  of  his  white  waistcoat. 

"  Tell  us  all  the  news,  Mr.  Byrne,"  said  Ruggles,  as 
they  walked  across  to  the  hotel  where  the  Irishman  had 

228 


JUDGE  LYNCH.  2 29 

insisted  on  the  travellers  partaking  of  a  "  thrifle  o'  lunch 
at  my  expinse,"  before  proceeding  to  their  destination. 

"Let  me  collect  my  idays,"  returned  Pat,  with  a  glance 
at  Carrie.  "It's  a  year  since  I've  basked  in  the  smiles 
of  beauty." 

Mrs.  Ruggles  blushed  at  this  outspoken  compliment, 
but  Pat  was  a  privileged  character,  and  her  husband  only 
laughed. 

"  Well,"  said  Byrne,  when  the  little  party  was  seated, 
and  he  had  ascertained  by  the  only  test  that  the  cham- 
pagne was  iced  to  the  proper  temperature.  "  Well,  in 
the  first  place  ye'll  have  a  welcome  from  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Scott  that'll  mek  yer  hair  curl,  an'  ye'll  see  the  purtiest 
baby  in  the  State.  I'm  his  godfather  !  " 

Jimmy  congratulated  their  host  on  his  new  dignity,  and 
Pat  resumed: 

"  You'll  see  a  vineyard  workin'  too — not  a  dissolute 
mess  'o  grapes  an'  foliage  like  it  was  last  year.  Ah,  thim 
was  terrible  times  !  " 

"  Terrible  indeed !  "  assented  Ruggles,  while  his  wife 
drew  nearer  to  him  with  a  little  shiver.  "  You've  had  no 
Vigilance  Committees  since,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  The  divil  a  wan,"  replied  Pat.  "  Ye'll  excuse  me, 
me  dear  young  lady,  but  it's  so  long  since  I've  basked  in 
the  smiles  of  beauty  that  I'm  forgittin'  me  manners ;  but 
we's  had  nothin'  'o  the  soort  since  Sheriff  Starkweather 
niver  cud  cease  blamin'  himself  whin  he  found  he'd  come 
too  late.  He  said  he'd  no  call  iver  to  have  lift  their  heels, 
but  they  slipped  out  o'  town  unbeknownst,  an'  sure  what 
cud  he  have  done  av  he'd  been  in  it,  itself.  But  I  tell  ye 
he  put  the  fear  o'  the  Lord  in  thim  fellows'  hearts  when 
he  saw  what  they  had  done.  Oh,  it  was  an  awful  sight  to 


JUDGE  LYNCH. 

see  that  poor  misguided  loonytic,  Ham  Jeffries,  swinging 
there  in  the  moonlight  on  Lone  Pine  Knob.  Not  but 
what  he  desarved  it.  He  only  met  the  death  he  was 
plannin'  fer  another,  but  still  hangin's  a  thing  that  should 
be  done  dacently  an'  not  by  a  gang  o'  roughs  in  hot 
blood." 

"Were  there  any  prosecutions?"  inquired  Ruggles. 

"Well,  there  came  near  bein',  but  sure  what  was  the 
good  ?  The  whole  town  was  in  it,  an',  as  I  was  sayin', 
they've  been  quiet  since,  and  I  think  the  nighness  o'  their 
makin'  a  mistake  wid  Jack  Scott — an'  there's  not  a  man 
in  San  Pablo  more  rispicted  an'  looked  up  to  this  day — 
give  'em  a  lesson.  Besides  that,  the  town's  grown  quieter 
since  the  strike,  an'  the  sheriff  does  be  here  a  good  share 
o'  the  time,  for  he's  just  wrapped  up  in  his  gran'son." 

"I  suppose  we'll  see  him  while  we're  with  Lucy,  then?" 
asked  Carrie. 

"  Ye  will  av  ye  arn't  blind,  fer  he's  in  town  now.  Tell 
me,  Mr.  Ruggles,  do  ye  iver  hear  anything  o'  yer  cousin, 
Mrs.  Morley  ? " 

"Very  little,"  answered  Jimmy.  "  She  is  still  in  Mem- 
phis, I  believe.  She  won  golden  opinions  from  every 
one  by  her  nursing  in  the  terrible  epidemic  last  year.  I 
have  a  clipping  from  a  Southern  paper — no  it  isn't  in  this 
pocket-book ;  but  it  speaks  in  the  highest  terms  of  her 
unselfishness  and  devotion." 

"  An'  she's  at  it  yet  ? "  inquired  Bryne. 

"  She  will  never  leave  it,"  replied  Ruggles.  "  Some 
women  seem  to  have  a  mission  for  that  kind  of  life,  and 
her  heart  is  in  it.  Of  course  this  year  there  has  been 
little  fever,  and  her  work  is  much  lighter." 

"  She  writes  to  Mrs.  Scott  ivery  wanst  in  awhile,"  said 


JUDGE  L  YNCH.  23  I 

Pat,  "  an*  whin  the  baby  kem  she  sint  a  lot  of  beeootiful 
imbroidery  work,  med  expressly  be  her  own  hand.  She 
was  good  hearted,  poor  sowl." 

"  She  was  indeed,"  replied  Carrie  earnestly ;  and  with 
this  tribute  Kate  Morley's  name  passed  from  the  conver- 
sation, though  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ruggles  found  that  it  had 
frequent  mention  in  the  Scott  household,  and  was  always 
linked  with  terms  of  gratitude  and  respect. 

"  How's  the  paper,  the  Independent,  getting  along  ?  " 
inquired  Jimmy  with  professional  interest.  "  Does  Scott 
run  it  ? " 

"  Indade  an'  he  doesn't,"  answered  Pat  indignantly, 
"  Mr.  Scott  is  me  partner,  an'  has  more  important  things 
to  look  after  nor  a  rubbishin'  newspaper — axin'  yer  pardon^ 
Mr.  Ruggles,  and  manin'  no  disrespect  to  yer  callin';  but 
the  thing  never  ped  anyhow,  so  afther  I  give  Field  the 
sack  I  niver  look  for  another  iditor,  but  just  discontinued 
publication." 

"  I  saw  Field  in  San  Francisco,"  remarked  Ruggles. 

"  Did  ye  indade,"  asked  Pat.  "  An'  what  might  he  be 
doin'  there  ? " 

"  Oh,  bohemianizing  around  on  the  outskirts  of  jour- 
nalism and  drinking  himself  to  death  as  fast  as  he  can," 
answered  Jimmy,  who  had  seen  too  many  bright  men  go 
to  ruin  in  the  same  way  to  have  much  pity  to  spend  on 
Chamberlain  Field. 

But  Pat  Bryne  looked  grave  and  there  was  a  tone  of 
compassion  in  his  voice  as  he  said,  "Ah  thin,  that's  a 
pity,  for  wid  all  his  faults  Foxy  was  a  gintleman  and  a 
scholar." 

"  Is  that  your  team,  Mr.  Byrne  ? "  inquired  Carrie, 
glancing  out  of  the  window  and  admiring  a  handsome 


232  JUDGE  LYNCH. 

road  wagon  with  a  fine  pair  of  horses  drawn  up  in  front 
of  the  hotel. 

"  That's  what  it  is,  me  dear  young  lady,"  answered  the 
Hon.  Pat.  "An'  I'm  goin'  to  have  the  pleasure  of  drivin' 
yerself  an'  yer  worthy  husband  out  to  me  partner's  house 
when  ye've  had  yer  lunch." 

"  I've  done,"  said  Ruggles,  rising ;  and  as  Carrie  pro- 
tested that  she  could  not  eat  another  morsel,  Mr.  Byrne 
was  fain  to  accept  her  assurance  and  establish  her  in  the 
seat  of  honor  in  his  carriage. 

"  Jack  has  a  rale  purty  house  wid  an  illegant  view  o' 
the  say  about  two  miles  out  o'  town.  It's  pay  day  at  the 
vineyard,  or  he'd  ha'  been  here  to  mate  ye  himself,  an'  as 
fer  his  wife — sure  wait  till  ye  see  the  baby  an'  ye'll  say 
she  has  excuse  enough." 

"  A  pretty  house,  a  noble  view  indeed,"  remarked 
Ruggles,  as  they  came  in  sight  of  Jack's  home,  and  saw 
Lucy  waving  her  welcome  from  the  front  porch.  "  Jack 
ought  to  be  a  happy  man." 

"  An'  so  he  is,  an'  why  wouldn't  he  be  ? "  returned 
Byrne.  "  Sure  he  has  all  that  heart  can  wish,  an  a  good 
conscience  to  the  boot  o'  it." 

A  loving  wife,  a  sufficiency  of  this  world's  goods,  and 
the  esteem  and  affection  of  all  who  knew  him  :  such  was 
Jack  Scott's  lot  in  life.  The  blessing  called  down  in 
Kate  Morley's  parting  words  was  fulfilled  in  overflowing 
measure,  and  Lucy  thanked  God  night  and  morning  for 
her  husband,  and  forgot  to  shudder  at  the  dangers  he 
had  escaped. 

As  Kate  Morley  said,  "  he  had  come  to  her  through 
many  perils." 


END. 


Belford,  Clarke  &•  Co.'s  New  Books. 


A  Drummer's  Diary.  By  CHARLES  S.  PLUMMER.  12mo,  cloth, 
gilt  top,  $1.00;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

What  Dreams  May  Come.  By  Mrs.  GERTRUDE  ATHERTON. 
12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  The  interest  of  the  story  lies  in  its  all-absorbing:  plot,  its  strong;  dra^ 
matic  treatment,  and  the  bold  handling  of  one  of  the  most  difficult  and 
least  used  subjects  of  literature." — Rochester  Herald. 

"  There  is  good  work  and  strong  work  in  the  book,  and  it  is  quite  enough 
to  make  one  hope  it  is  not  the  last  the  authoress  will  write." — N.  Y. 
Journalist. 

Bella-Demonia.  By  SELINA  DOLARO.  Madame  Dolaro's  Posthu- 
mous Novel.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

This  work,  founded  on  a  drama  by  Madame  Dolaro,  shortly  to  be  pro- 
duced, is  an  historical  novel  of  pure  incident.  It  is  composed  of  a  series  of 
startling  dramatic  situations,  founded  on  facts  not  hitherto  published  in 
connection  with  the  Ru-  so-Turkish  War  of  1877-8,  of  which  it  is  an  accurate 
history  of  absorbing  interest. 

Mes  Amours :  Poems,  Passionate  and  Flayfii-  By  SELINA 
DOLARO.  1  vol.,  small  4to,  illustrated,  $1.25. 

il  Some  of  them  are  from  her  own  pen ;  she  is  the  inspiration  of  the  others. 
A  few  of  ths  latter  are  really  quite  clever  verses,  but  not  nearly  as  bright  as 
her  annotation  of  them  all."— N.  Y.  Graphic. 

"  There  is  many  a  laugh  to  be  had  from  reading  the  book."— Town  Topics. 

"These  verses  are  full  of  spirit  and  life,  and  the  merry  mood  sings 
between  the  lines  like  the  contented  streamlet  between  wind-swept  hill- 
sides."— Albany  Journal. 

That  Girl  from  Texas.  By  JEANETTE  H.  WALWORTH.  12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  Is  one  of  the  nicest  girls  ever  introduced  to  readers.  Well  told,  and 
decidedly  interesting." — New  London  Telegraph. 

A  Splendid  Egotist.  By  JEANNETTE  H.  WALWORTH  (author  of 
"That  Girl  from  Texas").  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00;  paper 
cover,  50  cents. 

A  brilliant  society  novel  by  this  gifted  author,  and  one  of  the  best  she 
has  written. 

History  of  New  York.  By  JEANNETTE  H.  WALWORTH.  In  words 
of  one  syllable.  Richly  illustrated.  Illuminated  board  cover, 
$1.00  ;  cloth,  $1.50. 

"This  book  is  well  calculated  to  give  young  children  just  about  the 
historical  knowledge  in  that  direction  which  their  minds  are  prepared  to 
absorb  and  retain  "—Oswego  Palladium. 

His  Way  and  Her  Will.  By  FANNIE  ATMAR  MATHEWS.  12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  Is  a  novel  of  more  than  usual  merit.  Its  characters  are  strong  in  word 
and  action,  and  although  it  is  a  love  story,  its  sentiment  is  manly,  and  not 
mawkish."— N.  H.  News. 

"The  characters  are  drawn  with  a  firm  and  free  hand,  and  the  story  has 
that  symmetry  of  construction  which  shows  the  practical  workman.  The 
literary  style  is  finished  and  graceful." — Baltimore  News. 

CHICAGO,    NEW    YORK,    and    SA3ST    FRANCISCO. 


Belford,  Clarke  &  Co.'s  New  Books. 

Yone  Santo.    By  EDWARD  H.  HOUSE.     12mo,  cloth,  fl.OO  ;  paper 
cover,  50  cents. 

"  It  is  pathetic  and  touching,  a  story  evidently  written  by  the  hand  of  love 
from  a  full  heart,  and  embodying  more  fact  than  fancy."— N.  Y.  Tribune. 

"  There  are  few  people  who  will  not  want  to  hear  what  so  long  a  resident 
of  Japan  and  so  intelligent  a  writer  as  Mr.  House  has  to  say  about  the  mis- 
sionaries that  their  advocates  are  not  willing  to  have  us  know." — Hartford 
Courant. 

Kady.    By  PATIENCE  STAPLETON.   12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover, 
50  cents. 

*'  Introduces,  if  we  mistake  not,  a  new  novelist  to  American  readers,  and  a 
charming  one  in  many  ways.  One  with  all  the  grace  and  tenderness  of  the 
feminine  nature  and  without  the  weakness  usually  attributed  to  it."— Chicago 
Times. 

"  There  is  a  simple  dignity,  a  graphic  picturesqueness  and  a  touching  pathos 
in  little  '  Kady's '  griefs,  in  brave  Liddy  Clopper's  trials,  in  the  world-old 
contest  waged  by  young  Randolph  between  love  and  honor  and  his  later 
struggles  with  unlooked-for  misfortune,  that  Dr.  Hammond  or  Bret  Harte's 
sen",  or  Miss  Murfree  in  her  sympathetic  pictures  of  the  mountain  people  of 
Tennessee  has  scarcely  surpassed,  have  often  perhaps  not  equalled."— 
N.  O.  Democrat. 

Marie:  A  Seaside  Episode.  Illustrated  by  COLTAUS.  Cloth, $  1.00  ; 
paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  Prettily  told  in  most  melodious  verse  that  comes  trippingly  off  like  sea- 
side ripples  when  the  tide  is  low."— N.  Y.  Truth. 

Old  Man  Gilbert.    By  ELIZABETH  BELLAMY.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ; 
paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  Really  above  the  average,  and  is  far  from  needing  the  flattering  letter 
with  which  the  author  of  '  St.  Elmo '  introduces  it."— N.  Y.  Tribune. 

"  To  those  who  know  and  appreciate  the  phase  of  American  life  it  de- 
scribes, no  praise  can  add  to  the  simple  strength  and  beauty  of  the  story 
and  no  detraction  belittle  the  remarkable  creation  of 'Old  Man  Gilbert.'" 

— Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

Romance  of  a  Quiet  Watering-place.    By  NORA  WADDELL.    12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents.     Illustrated  by  GRAVES. 

"  A  very  entertaining  volume.  There  is  novelty  in  the  plot,  novelty  in  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  unravelled,  and  novelty  in  the  denouement."— Keokuk 
Democrat. 

Florence  Fables.    By  WILLIAM  J.  FLORENCE  (Comedian).     12mo, 
cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.00;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

A  volume  of  most  charming  stories,  told  in  simple  yet  graphic  style,  and 
with  delightful  humor  and  pathos,  "  Dead  Shot  Dan  "  being  as  humorous 
and  well-written  as  Mark  Twain's  "  Leaping  Frog." 

'Twixt  Love  and  Law.    By  MRS.  ANNIE  JENNESS  MILLER.    12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  It  is  likely  to  create  a  sensation  in  the  circle  of  the  author's  dress-reform 
friends."— Albany  Express. 

"  That  this  is  a  powerfully  written  novel  is  a  conclusion  forced  upon  the 
reader's  attention  in  the  early  pages  of  the  book,  and  this  conclusion  is 
confirmed  by  further  perusal  and  sustained  to  the  very  last  chapter." 

— Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

CHICAGO,   NEW    YORK,   and    SAW    FRANCISCO. 


Belford,  Clarke  &  Co.'s  New  Books. 


Kisses  of  Fate.    By  E.  HERON- ALLEN.     12mo,  cloth,  $1.00;  paper 
cover,  50  cents. 

"A  collection  of  clever  tales,  three  in  number,  the  merit  of  which  is  not 
suggested  in  the  title  he  has  chosen  to  give  them,  while  in  grace  and  finish 
they  reflect  to  his  credit."— Albany  Union. 

Princess  Daphne.    By  E.  HERON-ALLEN. 

"Somewhat  unorthodox,  but  highly  interesting." — Reading  Union. 
"  Weird  stories  are  in  vogue  at  present,  and  some  are  good  and  far  more 
are  the  reverse.    This  is  one  of  the  best."— Baltimore  News. 
"  The  book  is  written  in  an  attractive  style,  and  is  intensely  interesting." 

— Albany  Express. 

Among  the  Tramps.     By  "UNCLE  TIM."     12mo;  cloth,  gilt    top, 
$1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

A  volume  of  rare  interest  and  information,  from  the  pen  of  a  writer  thor- 
oughly conversant  with  that  philosophy  which  bears  upon  the  well-being  of 
society  and  every -day  life. 

Confessions  of  a  Society  Man.    12mo,  cloth,  $1.25. 

"The  book  is  interesting  throughput  because  of  the  rapid  and  continual 
shifting  of  incidents  which  is  its  chief  characteristic." 

—Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

"  The  love-making  in  it  is  charming.    It  is  interesting  up  to  the  very  end." 

— Nashville  American. 

A  Tramp  Actor.    By  ELLIOT  BARNES.     12mo,  cloth,  $1.00 ;  paper 
cover,  50  cents. 

"  There  are  good  things  in  the  book,  and  it  is  endowed  with  an  excellent 
moral."— N.  Y.  Sun. 

Forty  Years  on  the  Rail.    By  C.  B.  GEORGE.     Illustrated,  12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper,  50  cents. 

"  The  book  is  destined  to  have  a  very  extended  reading,  <xs  its  pages  are 
not  only  interesting,  but  instructive."— Keokuk  Democrat. 

The  Friend  to  the  Widow.    By  MAJA  SPENCER.     12mo,  cloth, 
$1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"This  is  a  love-story  pure  and  simple,  but  just  one  of  those  stories  that 
form  most  delightful  reading,  free  from  heroics  and  wild  sensations." 

— Chicago  Inter-  Ocean. 

Why  Was  It?    By  LEWIS  BENJAMIN.     Cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover 
50  cents. 

"  The  chief  charm  of  the  book  lies  in  the  simple  manner  of  telling  the 
story,  and  in  the  fact  that  its  basis  and  its  incidents  are  precisely  such  as 
may  be  picked  up  almost  anywhere,  at  any  time." — Nashville  American. 

The  Wrong  Man.  By  GERTRUDE  GARRISON.  Paper  cover,  25  cents. 
"  '  The  Wrong  Man  '  is  not  in  the  least  sensational— not  the  kind  of  a  story 
to  set  people  talking  about  its  possible  consequences  on  the  minds  of  un- 
seasoned readers.  Nothing  feverish,  questionable,  or  coarse  in  it.  Much 
rare  qualities  does  it  possess,  which  give  it  distinction  in  these  days  of 
rankly  flavored  fiction."—  Philadelphia  Herald. 

A  Boston  Girl.  By  REV.  ARTHUR  SWAZE.   1  vol.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 
"  Those  who  read  '  A  Boston  Girl '  will  like  it,  and  those  who  do  not  read 
it  will,  if  they  only  knew  it,  miss  spending  an  agreeable  hour  or  two."— San 
Francisco  Call. 

CHICAGO,   NEW    YORK,   and    SAIT    FBANCISCO. 


Belford,  Clarke  &  Co.'s  New  Boohs. 


Monte  Rosa,  the  Epic  of  an  Alp.    By    STARR    HOYT    NICHOLS. 
12mo,  $1.00. 

"It  is  an  account  in  poetic  form  of  an  Alpine  mountain,  beginning  with 
its  birth,  describing  its  form,  appearance,  grandeur,  its  relations  to  man 
physically  and  metaphysically,  and  ending  with  the  probable  ending  of  the 
mountain.  It  is  one  of  the  most  successful  of  recent  attempts  to  wed  science 
and  poetry."— Albany  Journal. 

Memories  of  the  Men  who  Saved  the  Union.     By  DONN  PIATT. 
12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  illustrated,  $1.50  ;  paper  cover,  25  cents. 

"Piatt's  sketches  of  the  great  coterie  of  men  mentioned  are  of  absorbing 
interest,  and  no  one  who  takes  up  the  book  will  lay  it  down  without  obtain- 
ing new  ideas  of  the  character  and  motives  of  those  so  high  in  place  during 
the  rebellion." — Quincy  Whig. 

"  They  are  the  interesting  recollections  of  one  who  was  personally  ac- 
quainted with  the  illustrious  men  of  whom  he  has  written,  and  who  had,  as 
well  officially  as  socially,  opportunities  of  studying  the  character  of  each, of 
which  he  has  availed  himself  in  writing  one  of  the  ablest  books  we  have  had 
the  pleasure  to  welcome  from  America."—  Westminster  Review. 

The  Lone   Grave  of  the  Shenandoah.     By  DONN  PIATT.     Large 
12mo,  cloth.  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"Eminently  original,  they  are  delightful  to  read.  So  extraordinary  a 
compound  of  poetry  and  practicality  as  our  author,  if  sought  through  the 
world,  could  not  probably  be  found." — Washington  Post. 

"They  are  sketches,  quaint,  delicate,  humorous,  fanciful,  examples  of  the 
art  of  short  story-writing  in  its  perfection."— Chicago  News. 

The  Protective  Tariff:  What  it  Does  for  Us.     By  HERMAN  LIES. 

Fourth  edition,  with  revisions  and  additions.     12mo.,  cloth,  $1.00. 
"It  is  clear  in  style  and  argument,  taking  strong  ground  for  the  imme- 
diate reduction  of  war  taxes  and  the  putting  of  the  nation  on  a  peace  foot- 
ing as  regards  the  necessities  of  life  for  the  common  people."— Michigan 
Courier. 

Life  of  Emperor  William  I.,  the  Founder  of  the  German  Empire. 
By  HERMAN  LIEB.    Cloth,  $2.00. 

"  General  Lieb  has  done  historical  literature  a  great  service  in  giving  it  a 
life  of  one  of  the  greatest  rulers  of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is  printed 
on  good  paper,  in  clear  type,  and  profusely  illustrated.  An  edition  is  also 
issued  in  the  German  language  for  those  who  want  the  history  of  their 
fatherland  in  their  own  tongue." — New  London  Telegram. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher,  Christian  Philosopher,  Pulpit  Orator,  Pa- 
triot, and  Philanthropist.     Illustrated  with  a  biographical  sketch 
Y  THOS.  W.  HANDFORD.     1  vol.,  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

"As  a 'pulpit  orator  he  was  during  life  the  peer  of  any  living,  and  his 
.iterances  will  go  on  converting  men.  andjflttingthem  for  earth  and  heaven. 
As  a  patriot,  loving  his  country,  and  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice  for  its 
sustenance  and  upbuilding,  he  was  at  all  times  conspicuous." — Chicago  In- 
ter Ocean. 

"  It  is  much  for  a  man  worthy  of  a  biography  that  he  should  fall  into  the 
hands  of  a  congenial  spirit,  and  that  the  biography  should  be  a  labor  of 
love." — Chicago  Herald. 

Dinnerology.    By  "PAN."     12mo,    cloth,    gilt  top,  $1.00.     Paper 
cover,  50  cents. 

Experiments  in  economical  cooking,  brightly  and  interestingly  related. 

CHICAGO,   NEW    YOKE,   and    SAN    FKANCISCO. 


Belford,  Clarke  &  Co.'s  New  Boohs. 

Tom  Burton.  By  N".  J.  W.  LE  CATO.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00;  paper  cover, 
50  cents. 

"Full  of  historic  interest  of  dramatic  fervor."— Bost on  Traveller. 

"  A  strong  story,  and  decidedly  interesting."— Pittsburgh  Press. 

"There  is  a  great  deal  of  life  and  movement  throughout  the  story,  and  it 
is  thoroughly  readable." — Worcester  Spy. 

"The  story  is  interesting  for  its  swift  movement  and  its  abundance  of 
action,  especially  as  the  writer  is  evidently  well  acquainted  with  the  region 
where  most  of  the  story  is  placed." — Chicago  Times. 

"The  story  deals  directly  with  a  period  during  the  late  war,  and  con- 
tains a  spice  of  adventure  which  will  surely  interest  both  young  and  old. 
A  feature  of  the  book  is  the  clever  character  drawing,  and  it  teaches  a 
lesson  to  all  young  Americans."— Boston  Times. 

Aunt  Sally's  Boy  Jack.  By  N.  J.  W.  LE  CATO.  Paper  cover,  25  cents. 
"  An  amusing  and  interesting  story,  the  scene  of  which  is  laid  on  the  At- 
lantic seaboard  of  one  of  the  Southern  States,  and  the  plot  turning  on  a 
secret  marriage."— New  Bedford  Mercury. 

The  Serpent  Tempted  Her.  By  SAQUI  SMITH.  12mo,  cloth, 
$1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  One  of  the  most  intensely  interesting  stories  I  have  read  in  many  a 
day."-^.  Y.  Truth. 

"The  reader  will  not  lay  it  down  until  the  very  last  page  is  read."— Chat- 
tanooga Times. 

Janus.  By  EDWARD  IREN^US  STEVENSON.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt 
top,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"A  fascinating  romance  with  an  art  motive.  A  brilliant  succession  of. 
dramatic  and  powerful  scenes  hurries  the  reader  onward  to  the  end  without 
a  moment's  pause.  There  is  no  straining  for  effect,  yet  the  situations  are 
intensely  dramatic,  and  the  closing  scene  of  the  domestic  tragedy  is  thor- 
oughly consistent  and  finely  sustained."— .ZV.  Y.  Mail. 

An  American  Vendetta.  By  T.  C.  CRAWFORD,  of  the  New  York 
World.  With  Characteristic  Illustrations  by  GRAVES.  12mo, 
cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

A  remarkable  story  of  the  truth  which  is  stranger  than  fiction,  being  the 
history  of  the  Hatfield-McCoy  Vendetta,  a  feud  more  bloody  and  inveterate 
than  any  of  those  which  have  given  Corsica,  the  birthplace  of  the  Vendet- 
ta, its  evil  reputation. 

His  Fatal  Success.  By  MALCOLM  BELL.  12mo,  cloth,  fl.OO; 
paper  cover,  50  cents. 

A  novel,  founded  upon  the  occult,  but  in  an  entirely  original  manner. 
The  possibilities  suggested  by  this  story  are  startling,  almost  terrifying, 
and  might  well  serve  as  a  warning  to  the  many  who  in  these  days  are 
blindly  groping  into  the  spectre-haunted  gloom  of  Spiritualism  and  Theoso 
phy. 

Hagar.  A  Novel.  By  JAMES  A.  MCKNIGHT,  of  the  Editorial 
Staff  of  the  New  York  Tribune.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00;  paper 
cover,  50  cents. 

This  is  a  work  of  the  most  telling  interest  from  the  first  page  to  the 
last.  It  deals  with  some  most  exceptional  scenes  and  episodes  in  connee 
tion  with  the  late  War,  and  in  relation  to  MormoniMn. 

CHICAGO,    NEW    YOBK,    and    SAN    FBANCISCO. 


Belford,  Clarke  <&•  Cb.'s  New  Books. 


Woman  the  Stronger.  By  W.  J.  FLAGG.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00; 
paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  An  unique  sort  of  a  book."— Albany  Express. 

"  The  book  is  delightful  in  its  wild  freshness  and  strong  local  color." 

-N.  Y.  Truth. 
"  True  to  life.    Is  founded  largely  on  facts,  and  is  charmingly  told." 

Poems  of  Passion.  BY  ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX.  Edition  de  Luxe. 
Cloth,  $4.00  ;  full  Morocco,  $7.50.  Small  12ino,  27th  edition,  red 
cloth,  $1.00. 

"The  poems  fully  deserve  the  handsome  setting  in  this  beautiful  book." 

— Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

"  Mrs.  Wilcox's  poems  are  all  rich  in  ideas.  She  often  condenses  a  whole 
page  in  a  stanza,  and  leaves  the  great  truth  sparkling  and  clearer  than  the 
orator  would  make  it  in  a  labored  argument."— Chicago  Herald. 

Poems  of  Pleasure.  By  ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX.  Small  12mo, 
red  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  BIrs.  Wilcox  in  this  collection  runs  the  whole  gamut  of  the  emotions. 
She  is  decidedly  the  most  successful  of  the  poetesses  of  the  present  day." 

—Baltimore  American. 

"  Contains  many  of  the  writer's  most  delicate  and  refined  fancies  and  self- 
communings."— N.  O.  Times-Democrat. 

Maurine  and  Other  Poems.  By  ELLA  WHEELER  WILCOX.  With 
Photogravure  of  the  Author.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

"  This  edition  embraces  the  best  specimens  of  her  work,  and  is  graced 
by  a  striking  portrait  of  the  popular  authoress.  "—Public  Opinion. 
"Is  a  story  of  woman's  love,  friendship,  and  capabilities  for  sacrifice." 

— Evening  Sun. 

Eros.  By  LAURY  DAINTRY.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50 
cents. 

"  Both  fascinating  and  remarkable,  and  sure  to  be  read."— Bait imore 
American. 

"  For  dainty  delineation  of  character,  intricacy  and  mystery  of  plot,  this 
story  takes  rank  with  the  first."— Pair  lot  (Harrisburg). 

Miss  Varian  of  New  York.  By  LAURA  DAINTRY.  12mo,  cloth 
$1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  The  author  of  '  Miss  Varian  '  has  studied  fashionable  life  to  some  put- 
pose,  and  has  written  a  novel  which  deals  with  the  vices  and  follies  of  a  cer- 
tain class  of  rich  men,  with  perfect  candor  and  fidelity. 

The  Masque  of  Death,  and  other  Poems.  By  CHARLES  LOTIN 
HILDRETH.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  rough  edges,  $1.00. 

A  volume  of  rare  beauty  and  brilliancy,  in  which  at  times  the  pen  seems 
a  brush  also,  so  frequently  is  the  thought,  which  is  always  pure,  elevated, 
and  original,  steeped  in  most  exquisite  color.  Mr.  Hildreth  has  already  won 
his  way  to  the  hearts  of  all  lovers  of  good  poetry,  and  it  may  be  safely 

Eredicted  that  this  volume  of  his  collected  works  will  win  him  enduring 
wne  as  one  of  the  few  great  American  poets. 

Poems.    By  CARLOTTA  PERRY.     12mo,  cloth,  f  1.00. 

"  Mrs.  Perry's  songs  are  often  songs  in  undertone,  but  the  music  is  rici 
and  deep  and  true.  The  writer  of  this  tasteful  little  volume  has  proved  he? 
right  to  an  enviable  place  in  the  American  world  of  letters."— Inter-Ocean, 

CHICAGO,    NEW    YORK,    and    SAN    FRANCISCC 


Belford,  Clarke  <&•  Co.'s  *New  Books. 


Mapleson  Memoirs,  1848-1888.  With  Portrait  of  the  Author.  2 
vols.,  8vo,  cloth,  $4.00. 

"To  the  professional  singer  they  must  be  of  absorbing  interest,  for  in 
them  may  be  found  sketches  of  ihe  careers,  of  leading  events,  culled  from 
the  lives  of  almost  all  the  best-known  siugeis  of  the  present  or  last  gener- 
ation.'1— St.  Louis  Republican. 

"  Replete  with  humorous  stories,  incidents,  and  anecdotes."—  Worcester 
Spy. 

"  We  have  in  these  volumes  a  great  part  of  the  public  life  of  Patti.  Ger- 
ster,  and  a  host  of  other  renowned  aitists.  In  places  the  account  becomes 
dramatic  in  interest.  The  story  of  the  season  during  which  the  two  artists 
named  were  new  in  San  Francisco  is  positively  exciting." — Public  Opinion. 

"Col.  Mapleson's  masterly  achievements  as  an  impresario,  together 
with  his  idiosyncrasies  as  a  man.  have  made  him  a  conspicuous  figure  in 
the  musical  world.  Most  people  will  be  ready  to  admit,  from  what  they 
know  of  him,  that  any  memoirs  of  his  must  be  interesting,  but  very  few 
will  be  able  to  come  anywhere  near  the  maik  in  the  estimate." — Cle>  eland 
Leader. 

Under  the  Maples.  By  WALTER  N.  HINMAN.  12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ; 
paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"  An  American  pastoral,  redolent  of  the  woodlands,  and  glistening  with 
the  shimmer  of  brooks." — N.  Y.  Truth. 

"It  is  a  relief  to  come  across  a  book  which  makes  no  pretence  of  reform- 
ing the  world,  which  has  no  'mission.'  and  in  which  the  author  is  content 
to  picture  for  us  the  simplest  scenes  of  daily  life." — N.  Y.  Journalist. 

Star  Dust.    By  FANNIE  ISABEL  SHERRICK.     12m o,  cloth,  $1.00. 

"They  are  forcible;  their  imagery  is  at  once  delicate  and  leautiful."— 
Chicago  Herald. 

"  All  through  the  book  we  find  descriptive  bits  which  show  that  the  author 
possesses  that  love  and  appreciation  of  nature  which  characterizes  the  true 
poet." — Burlington  Post. 

Song  of  the  Haunted  Heart,  and  Other  Poems.  By  MINNA  IRVING. 
Cloth,  $1  00.  With  portrait  of  author. 

"  The  '  Song  of  a  Haunted  Heart,'  from  which  the  handsome  little  volume 
takes  its  name,  is  a  poem  of  great  pathos  and  beauty.  The  volume  is  made 
up  in  great  variety  of  miscellaneous  poems,  most  of  them  sung  in  sad  re- 
frain, yet  always  elegant  and  musical."—  Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

The  Land  of  the  Nihilists:  Russia.  By  W.  E  CURTIS.  12mo, 
cloth,  $1  00.  With  over  100  Illustrations. 

"  Is  one  of  the  most  excellent  books  of  the  day  on  the  people,  palaces,  and 
politics  of  Russia."— Boston  Traveller. 

"  The  book  is  crammed  with  information  of  the  digested  sort,  and  put  into 
lively,  readable  form."—  Evening  Sun. 

"  This  work,  by  a  practical  journalist,  is  a  narrative  of  travel  in  the  Czar's 
dominions.  It  is  therefore  a  series  of  vivid  pen-and  ink  sketches  by  a  prac- 
tical trained  observer,  and  his  sketches  are  vivid  and  very  readable. "- 
Baltimore  Argus. 

Off  Thoughts  About  Woman  and  Other  Things.  By  S.  R.  HEED. 
12mo,  cloth,  $1.00  ;  paper  cover,  50  cents. 

"Mr.  Reed  has  the  faculty  of  making  keen  hits,  and  that  he  does  it  mock- 
ingly does  not  much  matter  in  the  resulting  impressions  on  the  mind." — 
Youngstoian  Telegram. 

CHICAGO,    NEW    YORK,    and    SAN    FRANCISCO. 


S12.5O  FOR 


A  CLEAN  SAVING  OF  S8.0O. 

Tie  Most  BemarMs  Literary  Offer  Ever  Made,) 

1  00,000  new  subscribers  are  wanted  for  Beiford's  Mag; 
and  to  get  them  we  make  the  following  great  offer 

FOR    $4.5Ol 

We  will  send  to  each  new  subscriber  a  set  of 

GEORGE  ELIOT'S  COMPLETE  WOR 

In  six  large,  izmo  volumes,    co  .taining  4,600   pages, 
gantly  bound  in  the  best  English  cloth;  large,  clear 
good  paper,  gold  and  ink  embossing;   each  set  in  a 


lished  at  $10.00,  and 


box. 


For  one  year,  postpaid,  containing  over  1,800  pages  of 
ing  matter.     Published  at  $2.50. 

The  magazine  is  under  the  editorial  manageme 
Actual  Size  $y  x  6J£.  *ne  keenest  and  most  slashing  writer  of  the  day, 

C5ol_   "1  ^  CDIt'TIE^T    lE-3!-^-1-!-"-!-1, 

And,  besides  a  complete  original  novel  from  the  pen  of  some  foremost  American  ntf 
(alone  worth  more  than  the  price  of  the  magazine),  contains  vigorous  discussions  on  th< 
portant  political,  economic,  social  and  literary  questions  of  the  day,  written  in  a  fearless, 
and  independent  manner  by  the  best  authorities,  and  articles,  sketches,  poems  and  stori 
gifted  and  popular  writers. 

The  highest  place  in  the  realm  of  fiction  has  been  accorded  by  universal  conse: 
George  Eliot.  No  writer,  living  or  dead,  has  covered  the  ground  she  has  swept  with  the 
of  her  commanding  genius. 

The  set  includes  ADAM  BEDE,  ROMOLA,  FELIX  HOLT,  MIDDLEMARCH,  DANIEL  DER< 
SILAS  MARNER,  THE  MILL  ON  THE  FLOSS,  SCENES  FROM  CLERICAL  LIFE,  THEOPHRASTUS  S 

AND  JUBAL  AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

Over  2,000  newspapers  speak  in  the  highest  possible  terms  of  Beiford's  Magazine; 
commend  it  to  all  who  want  a  fair,  able  and  fearless  exponent  cf  sound  principles,  coml 
with  the  literature  of  a  first-class  magazine. 

Subscriptions  can  begin  with  any  number,  as  each  number  is  complete  in  itself,  and 
be  sent    to    any  of 
our  offices. 

Remit  by  Post- 
office  or  Express 
order,  or  Bank 

check.  m&wmBmffl^mB&m&mssfmm^^^ 


BELFORD, 
CLARKE  &  CO, 

Publishers, 

CHICAGO: 
1O9  &  111  WabashATC. 

NEW  YORK: 
28  East  18th  Street. 

RAN  FRANCISCO: 
884  Sarket  Street. 


